


The Chosen Path

by the49thname



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Polyamory, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 63,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the49thname/pseuds/the49thname
Summary: After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]





	1. Caged Birds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!! I've finally gotten close enough to finishing this to start posting, which I'm extremely happy about. It's been my only writing project for the past 3 years, and I have put all of my love and energy into it. This fic is canon divergent from chapter 218 of the manga, but for the most part the fic is canon compliant apart from that. I have 9 chapters ready as of this point, and I'm hoping to finish the ending and edit the rest while I post these chapters, so there should be a regular update schedule. Be prepared for the long haul, this turned out way longer than I expected it to.
> 
> But enough rambling, I hope that you guys enjoy reading this and please leave comments (they give poor writers like me motivation) if you can!! Enjoy!!

The rain outside hammered a cacophony of noise onto the roof above, thousands of drops creating a thousand tiny drum beats struck in unison; a reflection of the feelings contained in the room below. Lavi remembered reading once that emotions could influence the weather, happiness bringing forth a sun hidden before by cloud, sadness a barrage of rain and an army of darkened skies. On this night, with his back pressed tightly against the wood behind him, he could feel each plank etch itself onto his skin. Fingers dancing a nervous pattern on a trembling thigh, he wondered if what he felt at that moment brought forth storms or sunshine.

For when a caged bird is finally set free, is its freedom a gift or a curse?

* * *

Four months and sixteen days: the time that had passed since Allen had left the Order. He knew it almost instinctively, not needing a clock or time of day to remind him, nor a calendar to mark the days gone by. He knew, and with each day it became more painfully apparent that the time would only lengthen.

There was no going back.

Kanda and Johnny had briefly tried, and he could only marvel at their attempt to stop the forces pulling him away from everything he held dear. He even briefly entertained the thought that, perhaps, he could go home with them. But Apocryphos was a tireless pursuer, and the Earl knew not the meaning of time. In a crowded alleyway Allen Walker met his fate, mind shattering bit by bit into unrecoverable pieces, a manic grin and memories not belonging to him marking the end of his time on the run.

Or so he thought.

For when he awoke the Earl, Johnny, and the handcuffs tying them together were gone. The city was quiet, empty, the air heavy with a silence that seemed almost unnatural. When he rose to his feet, wincing, something felt _wrong_. With unsteady steps into dying sunlight, breaths light and quickened by fear and pain, Allen entered a town square full only of the dead.

Feathered eyes and mouths greeted him, creatures of horror and fancy, lives taken so painfully and so very easily. Allen did not then know that these people had died while filled with wonder because _oh_ , an angel from Heaven itself had graced them with its presence.

He did not then know that his lifetime companion, and the friends who’d tried to take him back, were all gone.

His feet moved as if they simply knew only to walk forward, so with heavy steps Allen stepped over the festering dead, eyes focused only ahead. He ignored the feeling of soft flesh beneath his boots, ignored the way his arm _throbbed_ in memory of those feathers filling his eye sockets. Later he would cry, later he would scream and lie listless and sleepless with eyes wide open, but for now he knew he had to leave, though he knew not where he would go.

Allen scarcely comprehended that the scenery had changed from urban to country, that the sun had long since set behind darkening clouds. Blinking, lowering his right hand from where it had been gripping his left so tightly his fingers had gone numb, he realised he had been walking for miles in a form of stupor. He became aware of the ache in his legs, the hardened road beneath him that his boots did nothing to soften for his tired feet, the dizziness that lack of food and water brought. Throat parched, stomach growling, every muscle in his body screaming for rest, Allen felt as if he could lie down on the side of the road and sleep as deeply as if he lay upon a feather-filled mattress.

Weeks had passed since then, but he was still weary, still aching and still full of hunger and thirst. He now knew the meaning of being on the run, how Neah must have felt when he betrayed the Earl, for wherever he went there was no place to rest and nowhere to flee to. Every day since he had last seen Johnny and Kanda had been an endless stretch of running, hiding, running, hiding. Sleep came whenever his body gave up on him, when he couldn’t bring himself to get up from where he’d fallen, be it on a city’s dirty pavement or a damp dirt road in the countryside. Food and drink came whenever he could muster the strength to perform, though he resorted more often to starving. He couldn’t use his Innocence due to the lack of food and Apocryphos’s attack, his cursed eye kept him aware of Akuma, and the near fever-like heat and blurred vision that accompanied Neah’s excursions warned him of what he could only assume were the Noah. Most normal humans avoided him, for his bedraggled appearance and empty gaze said more than enough that he was to be left alone.

Which was probably for the best, since enough innocent people had died on his part.

Johnny and Kanda’s fate was unknown to him, and he almost didn’t want to know, for how would he cope with the deaths of more people who had died protecting him from himself? Just the thought of it caused Allen to shudder, to draw his tattered coat more closely around his frame. Cross’s words on Neah’s outcome rang clear in his mind, that he fought and ran until he died, and Allen couldn’t help but tremble at the idea that, perhaps soon, he would be lying dead against a wall somewhere with no-one to help him.

Which was probably for the best, since enough innocent people had died on his part.

No longer even able to cry, for the tears had long since stopped flowing, Allen simply kept walking from place-to-place, eyes set in front of him, mind playing memories that did not belong to him on a loop. Timcanpy was nowhere to be found, and Allen missed the company for he was wretchedly alone.

_Which was probably for the best, since enough innocent people had -_

The sound of distant thunder rooted Allen to the spot. Looking up to the horizon, he spotted lightning dashing itself upon faraway hilltops. Soon a storm would come, which meant another night of either squatting in a damp abandoned barn, or fleeing sightless and exhausted through the rain. Gritting his teeth, pulling his coat even tighter around himself, Allen prayed to whatever God would take mercy on him to let him rest.

Every night he prayed, and every night his prayers were not answered. But he could only keep praying.

As the rain started to fall the heavens opened to release a storm of such fury Allen could hardly walk straight without toppling over. He mustered whatever strength he had left and ran, the sound of his boots hitting hard earth hidden by the onslaught of raindrops and thunder. Sight soon became useless, water dropping from his eyelashes over his vision, hair stuck to his clammy skin, clothes drenched and full of cold.

At first Allen thought the heat was from the sudden movement, since his body was so near exhaustion he could barely put one foot before the other, but with gut-wrenching fear he could feel Neah begin to surface, vision clouding over even further, the sensation of his boots hitting ground and the rain drumming upon his skull fading. Either a Noah was close or…

Allen couldn’t finish his thought, for something was running towards him. He faltered, losing purchase on the slippery mud beneath his feet, consciousness crumbling, and before everything faded to black he saw a hand reach out for him.

* * *

The first sensation he felt was warmth; indescribable, comforting, bone-seepingly pleasurable warmth. It filled every part of his body from crown to heel, seeping into him so deeply he felt happy to lie that way forever and never wake again. But then other sensations became apparent to him: aching pain, exhaustion, hunger. He felt a hard floor underneath him, a bunched up piece of clothing beneath his head that smelt so strongly of the Order Allen felt his eyes fill with tears. Then the sound of a fire crackling, the smell of burning wood, the sound of metal clanging against metal, the sound of _someone sighing_ –

And with that Allen sat up wide-eyed, instinctively trying to activate his Innocence and failing, scrambling to his feet in a state of panic.

“Oh, you’re finally awake! I was beginning to wonder if you’d need some beautiful princess to kiss you awake or somethin’.”

It was Lavi. _Lavi_ sat, spoon in hand, stirring a pot full of something that smelt so good Allen could practically _taste_ it.

“I must be dreaming…”

And then Allen began to laugh, sinking to the floor with his head held in one hand, lips pulled into a weary smile. When his gaze met Lavi’s confused one he laughed even further, nearly hysterical, for how could this night, of all nights, be when his prayers were answered.

The smile died on Allen’s lips. Hand falling to hang loosely in his lap, he realised that he wasn’t dreaming, which meant Lavi was in _danger_. There was no time to question, no time to wonder how he’d found him, no time to rest or eat or laugh and enjoy the company of someone other than himself. He stood, giving a shaky smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m awfully sorry Lavi, but I have to be going.”

One step. Two steps. Silence broken only by the rain continuing to pour outside, and Lavi’s wide-eyed shocked gaze rooted onto Allen’s painfully fake smile, and how he headed straight for the door and opened it.

“W-wait, Allen - !”

One step. Two steps. The rain hammered on his skull a drumbeat that soon tuned out Lavi’s cries for him to stop. But before he could take another step a hand grabbed his arm so tightly it _hurt_ , and he was wheeled right back into warmth and the smell of food and a jade-green eye so full of emotion Allen couldn’t _breathe_.

The door slammed shut and he soon backed himself into it, spine digging painfully into hardened wood. He wanted to find the words to say that he had to leave, that he had to keep running lest he be found, because as long as Lavi was around him he would either be killed by what hunted him or _he_ would kill him. But the feeling of Lavi’s hand trembling against his own, the sight of the eye that was fixed on his with a myriad of emotions, the sound of his voice _breaking_ as he said his name - Allen felt himself topple forwards into a warmth that dragged him back deep down into unconsciousness.

And, when he awoke, it was daylight.

Eyelids heavy with sleep, mind sluggish and detached from his body, Allen struggled to pull himself up from the slumber that still clung tightly to his very being. Eventually his body reacted to his thoughts, mind scrambling itself together to put time and place into order, eyes fluttering open to a ceiling of wooden beams.

With a groan he pulled himself up, vision bleary, to a room filled with afternoon sunshine.

It was small, most likely an abandoned stable. The ground was littered with straw that had somehow embedded itself onto the stone floor, and in a far corner was a pile of rusted horse shoes. Motes of dust filtered through the hazy sunshine flooding the room, drifting from the small window opposite him to the dirty ground. And across from him, curled up under a jacket, was Lavi.

Memories came to mind in fragments; the rain, the smell of cooking food, the fingers gripping onto his arm, and then nothing. Getting up as best he could, Allen noticed he was no longer dressed in the clothes he’d arrived in, and his hair hung loosely past his shoulders. Wounds he hadn’t even registered last night were bandaged and cleaned, and his feet were wrapped with bandages that smelt strangely medicinal and felt slimy to the touch. His tattered coat and shirt were draped neatly over a nearby bench, his trousers repaired and stitched. His body, which had become so accustomed to aches and weariness felt oddly relaxed; when he stood he no longer felt dizzy, and his fingers clenched and unclenched without numbness.

Allen realised, rather quickly, that he had probably been asleep longer than a night.

Sudden fear gripped him tightly in its claws: how _long_ had he been asleep? Had Lavi been hurt? Had someone come for him? Urgency in his steps, Allen rushed to Lavi’s side and knelt down, breathing unsteady and panic-stricken. But the redhead seemed to be fine, sleeping soundly with his chest rising and falling, slowly and steadily. Allen sank back, relieved. But the fear didn’t fully abide, for he knew that he had rested far too long, that he hadn’t made enough progress to keep him ahead of his tireless pursuers.

He had to leave, and he had to leave now.

Grabbing his shirt, coat, and trousers, Allen dressed as quickly as he dared without waking his sleeping companion. Tying his hair back with a ribbon, he attempted to put his feet into his boots but found himself unable to bite back the cry of pain that escaped him; his feet were in _agony_. Now he knew why they were bandaged, and with panic rising like a wave inside of him he realised he couldn’t run away.

Lavi stirred with a groan.

Frozen in place, Allen did nothing but stare wide-eyed as the redhead sat up, rubbing his eye with the back of one hand. When he turned his bleary gaze towards him he didn’t seem surprised or shocked at Allen’s dressed state, nor that he was attempting to leave. Instead he yawned, so deeply his jaw clicked, and stumbled to a pot sat in the far corner. Upon opening it Allen smelt something akin to stew, now cold, but it smelt so good he felt his mouth water. Lavi turned towards him knowingly, smiling in a way that made it rather clear he knew Allen wouldn’t leave without food. He laughed as Allen stumbled over to the pot and stared eager-eyed at what seemed to be the dinner from the night before.

“I didn’t know when you’d wake up, so I made enough for two. Or five, knowing your stoma-”

He didn’t even have time to finish, for Allen had already discovered a bowl beside his feet and was stuffing meat and vegetable into his mouth so quickly Lavi wondered if he’d choke. Soon enough the pot was empty, and a very satisfied Allen sat back with a hand on his stomach.

“I haven’t eaten that well in _months_.”

Lavi didn’t know whether to laugh or feel concerned, so a quiet chuckle seemed like an appropriate enough response. Allen paused before guilt entered his expression, hands raised in apology.

“A-ah but I am sorry, there’s not any left for…”

“Ah don’t worry about it ‘sprout, I ate last night anyway.”

“The name’s Allen.”

A frown and curt voice accompanied Allen’s words, causing Lavi to laugh. It was a sound so joyous to Allen’s ears he couldn’t help but smile; laughter, cooked food, and sleeping as much as he needed were things Allen had learned to live without over the past few months. Regardless of how much he had missed it, he knew he probably shouldn’t get used to it.

After a brief moment of silence he turned his gaze towards his companion, confusion showing in his features.

“Lavi… What happened to…? I mean, what…?”

“If you mean your feet, I haven’t even seen soldier’s feet look that covered in blisters and sores. You also had frostbite, you’re lucky I didn’t have to cut your toes off.” Allen poked his foot with a finger and deeply regretted it, wincing. “And as for how long you’ve been asleep, it’s been nearly three days.”

Allen looked up, eyes wide.

“Three…”

“Yep. You must’ve been pretty exhausted, huh.”

Eyes downcast, Allen let the silence answer the question for him. Running a hand through his hair, Lavi pretended not to notice the fear veiling Allen’s gaze, nor the way he tapped his fingers nervously against the stone floor.

“And as for what I’m doing here… Well…”

When Lavi didn’t continue Allen forced his gaze upward, to which he saw an expression he’d never seen before on his friend’s face. It reminded him awfully of his own expression when he first found out about the 14th, about Mana’s connection to him, so when Lavi put on a smile and scratched the back of his head with a bashful glance Allen knew something had gone terribly, _terribly_ wrong.

“Let’s just say I really wasn’t expecting to see you come falling into me and send me flying down the hill.”

Allen grimaced. “A-ah I’m sorry…”

Lavi shook his head. “Don’t sweat it, I should be the one sayin’ sorry for injuring you.”

“Injuring…?”

Lavi faltered, refusing to meet Allen’s gaze with a pained expression. “Well… When you got up you weren’t…”

And then Allen knew. He didn’t want to imagine what he, no, _Neah_ had done while he had been unconscious.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine.”

They were silent for a while until Lavi continued with a cough, fiddling with the hem of his shirt with a faraway look in his eye.

“He said I should’ve run. But he looked like a gust of wind could be the end of him, so when he put up a fight I fought back. It didn’t take much to knock him out but I probably did more damage than I meant to. I took him inside a place where I’d been stayin’, and I didn’t know if… well, if you were gonna come back… but, you were pretty beaten up and exhausted so…“

Silence befell them. Allen, unable to think of a reply, simply bowed his head and eyed his bandaged figure. Neah’s excursions had become common place for him over the months; sometimes they lasted a mere few hours, other times a few days. The slip in consciousness was frightening at first, more so when Allen realised it had happened before at the Order, in Paris, at the North American branch. But eventually, when he concluded that who he was, ‘Allen’, wasn’t consumed and erased upon each take-over, he simply accepted Neah’s control over his mind and body as a fact of life.

He couldn’t change it, so worrying over such a thing would be a waste of time and effort.

But Lavi had been missing, if Allen remembered correctly, for a few weeks before he himself had left the Order after Apocryphos’s attack. Though his memories of that time were hazy at best, more due to the interrogation and Neah’s awakening than anything, he briefly recalled Link commenting that Lavi and Bookman had been kidnapped by the Noah.

Which meant Lavi would not have known if ‘Allen’ would return if Neah was in control.

So, when Allen returned his gaze to his companion it was with curiosity, and a pang of guilt. _How_ did he escape? Why was Bookman not there with him? Why had he helped Allen if he thought ‘Allen’ was gone? Seeming to sense the questions Allen wished to ask, Lavi simply shrugged before leaning back, palms resting on the dirty ground. _Ask away_ , his gaze implied, resting on a spot near Allen’s bandaged feet. But Allen couldn’t articulate his queries so instead settled for silence.

Minutes passed, and with each moment the atmosphere filled with an awkward tension that you could almost _taste_ ; it was sour to the tongue, hard to swallow, and left your stomach and chest aflutter with an anxiety that could consume you. Unanswered questions lingered, and both Lavi and Allen knew that they could not be answered. Or, perhaps, they simply did not want to answer them, at least not in that moment when one had barely given himself a day’s rest for weeks at a time, and the other could no more speak of what had happened than choke on the lump that refused to leave his throat.

They sat, uncomfortably quiet. But it seemed other forces were at work to end the discomforting silence between them, for the familiar change in Allen’s left eye signified Akuma. Needing nothing to be said, Lavi jumped to his feet, reaching for the Innocence strapped to his thigh. It was only then that Allen noticed two things, leaving two previously unanswered questions answered.

Lavi’s Innocence had changed, and there were stigmata on the palm of each hand.

“How many?”

Allen got up in a daze, trying to focus. “Five… wait, no… more but I can’t seem to see them all properly…”

“That’s fine. Can you tell how far away they are?” Lavi’s voice was sincere, calming Allen’s nerves.

“Too close for comfort.”

And that was enough, for Lavi simply nodded before hurriedly packing items into a large duffel bag, moving methodically and quickly. When he turned around and saw Allen trying and failing to activate his Innocence, shaking from the effort of it, Lavi shook his head.

“We can’t fight them, not with your injured feet. If I was alone I might be able to take them on but…”

He paused, gaze flickering from the unactivated hammer held in his hands to the burning marks on his palms. He could practically _feel_ his Innocence come to life in his tightening grip, the thoughts and processes that he wasn’t quite used to yet whirring in his mind, the power that left adrenaline flooding through his veins so fast his head was spinning.

But he couldn’t, and Allen knew that. He knew all too well.

“So I guess we’ll be running then.”

In better circumstances Allen would have laughed at the irony since he could scarcely walk, nevermind attempt to flee from a group of Akuma. But nevertheless he gathered himself together, pulling himself upright with a deep breath.

He would do his best. That was all he could do, after all.

But Lavi shook his head once more, smiling this time. He extended a hand towards Allen, stigmata facing toward him, gaze resolute and firm with an emotion Allen couldn’t quite figure out. And so he took hold of the hand before him, his left in Lavi’s right, two crosses and marks of a doomed fate entwined.

A few steps forward and soon they were stood outside in mid-afternoon sunshine. Five was a poor estimate; more than twenty Akuma were gathering around them, fast approaching. With a quick glance Lavi counted several Level Ones, even more Level Twos and Threes, and 4 Level Fours with their mockery of angel wings outstretched. A part of his mind whispered _I can do it_ , a quiet confidence that stated, perhaps, he was stronger now. But it was a risk he couldn’t afford to take, not with the boy by his side weaker than he’d ever seen him, even though his light still shone just as brightly as it ever did.

Lavi brandished his weapon, fingers and palms sliding across hardened iron - no, _crystal_ \- and with the smallest thought, the tiniest rush of feeling rippling down his neck and spine to his arms, his hands, the tips of his fingers,  he activated his Innocence with a call of its name. And it answered, aglow and burning with purpose. But there would be no fighting for it today, no souls to exorcise.

“Extend!”

Gripping Allen tightly with one hand, and his Innocence with the other, Lavi swung himself over his hammer as it changed shape accordingly, more fluid than it had been before. With a single command they were off. Allen had thought Lenalee was fast, the day they fought their first Level Four, but Lavi’s Innocence was _fast_ , so fast Allen’s hair and clothes whipped about him painfully. And yet again he felt himself marvel at the change in power from Equip type to Crystal, the change in speed and ability.

Looking over his shoulder he could see pursuing Akuma, but they struggled to keep up. The Level Ones and Twos were soon lost behind the retreating horizon, and eventually the Level Threes also seemed to fade into the distance. The Level Fours were another matter.

Lavi cursed under his breath, also looking over his shoulder, and the Innocence seemed to respond by moving even faster, so fast even Lavi was struggling to notice his surroundings. But it was almost intuitive, like riding a bike or stretching out one’s arms to balance; what he thought and felt was echoed by the bond to his Innocence, and with each urge to go faster, to move quicker, it replied and responded. When he thought he had noticed a tree too late, or not avoided a house quick enough, the weapon held in his hands almost _knew_ what to do.

And despite everything, amongst all the misgivings and all the doubts, Lavi felt a thrill of being alive so strongly it _hurt_.

However neither of them would live for much longer if they didn’t lose the Level Fours pursuing them. If Allen had not been so injured, so exhausted, and if his Innocence could function then perhaps they could stay and fight, but Lavi knew that he could not take on those Akuma alone and protect Allen at the same time.

They had to keep moving.

Just when Allen thought they could go no faster they did, so fast now that the world around them was a blur of colour, and he noticed with a jolt that behind him Lavi’s Innocence was _crumbling_. Fearing it was breaking from the strain he nearly turned around and warned Lavi of the danger before realising that it was not, in fact, crumbling at all; it was as if the weapon had left an after-image in its wake, crystal returning to its original state, to _blood_ , frozen in the path they had taken. But where was the hammer’s head? If it wasn’t fixed on the ground outside of the stable they had just left, where was it? He wished he could ask but the noise of the wind and the intense concentration on Lavi’s face left him unable to speak, and so he remained silent, confused and concerned but silent and trusting in his companion to lead them to safety.

Suddenly the range of colour disappeared to an endless blue and it took Allen a while to realise they were crossing a lake or ocean of some kind, a wide expanse of water that left sky and earth blurring together into a disorientating array of colour. It left him feeling nauseous and dizzy so he buried his face between Lavi’s shoulder blades, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. Lavi, concerned, turned his head.

“Allen, you doin’ alright?”

He had to shout to be heard above the wind and Allen could feel Lavi’s voice vibrating against him as he spoke. Pulling away, meeting Lavi’s gaze, Allen nodded.

“I’m alright, don’t worry.”

Lavi smiled before his expression faded to one of grim seriousness.

“Good. Are the Akuma still tailin’ us?”

Allen turned, keeping a firm grip on Lavi’s back so he didn’t fall, and tried to focus his eye on the Akuma’s souls - though he wished with all his heart he never had to look at another Level Four’s soul because it was _horrifying_ \- and found nothing. At first he felt relieved, but then he saw them: one, two - far too close for comfort - then three, but _where was the fourth one_?

“Lavi, I can’t find the last on-”

“ _Shit_!”

He had no time to react because suddenly the world was spinning, endless blue blurring into one, and then he hit water _hard_ , so hard all the breath was knocked out of him and he couldn’t move. Shock overtook instinct and it took far too long for him to realise he was sinking, but he felt too weak to swim for the surface and the coldness of the water was so blissfully _numbing_ , so dark and calm and free of toil and he felt as if he could simply close his eyes and - but his lungs were burning from the lack of air with his entire body screaming at him to breathe and if he lay down and died here he would be forsaking Mana and everything he had tried so hard to live for - but did that really matter when he wouldn’t exist soon anyway - he had to _keep moving_ but -

The decision was made for him as a firm arm wrapped itself around his middle and dragged him, partly unwilling, to blinding sunlight and fresh air. He gasped for breath, throat and eyes burning until he was coughing and spluttering and unable to brush neither water nor tears from his eyes.

“Allen. Allen! Come on, listen to me you idiot!”

He heard a voice; _Lavi’s_ voice, full of urgency and worry. As he opened his eyes he saw that they were in the middle of a large lake, land faraway on the horizon, and with one hand Lavi was holding him up as the other held onto the Innocence suspended just above his head so tightly his knuckles were white from the strain of it.

“Allen, listen, I can fight on water but not that well, we have to get out of here.”

He sounded panicked and it made Allen’s heart flutter with worry. Heaving, trying hard to breathe and focus, he reached for Lavi’s Innocence and painfully hoisted himself up, Lavi following suit. As they sat, regaining their bearings, they saw that the Level Fours had surrounded them, wings spread wide, a circle of death and destruction and maniacal smiles.

“Hand over the Noah, boy.”

“I am no Noah!”

Allen’s rebuke was full of anger and petulant denial, yet all it did was make the Akuma laugh. Lavi gritted his teeth, anger flaring within him.

“You want him? _Come get him_.”

And off they went like a bullet fired from a gun, the sudden rush of movement leaving Allen clutching at his stomach and resisting the urge to vomit; Lavi’s Innocence was moving as if the hounds of hell themselves were chasing them and, ironically, it wasn’t too far from the truth. His left eye showed the Akuma were matching their pace, however, and there was no comfort to be found in being over dry land once more either. It was dawning on the both of them with each passing second that they could not outrun them, and yet the prospect of stopping and fighting left them both anxious and concerned for each other’s safety; they were surrounded on all sides by an expanse of trees and there was so little space to fight.

But they had been in stickier situations before, and they trusted each other’s ability to fight and survive so faithfully that nothing could break it. As Lavi brought them to a halt over a clearing, cursing, Allen placed a hand on his shoulder and his smile said _it’s okay, don’t worry about me_. Despite the paleness of his skin and the way he trembled as he sat behind him he still shone as brightly as ever, and Lavi knew that whatever happened they had each other’s back.

They always had each other’s back.

And so they descended, hitting ground softly, and Allen noticed as they landed that the head to Lavi’s hammer had reappeared and the weapon seemed sturdy and firm once more. There was no time to speculate however, and as each Level Four landed onto the ground with a loud _thud_ it sent adrenaline pumping through their veins, sent their hearts thudding wildly against their ribcages until their eardrums thudded in time to each heartbeat.

“Give up the Noah.”

It was not a request this time; it was a _command_. Lavi simply moved so he was stood back-to-back with Allen, smiling grimly. Before he could throw a retort their way he noticed something was wrong, very, _very_ badly wrong for Allen was shaking, shaking in a way that was not out of fear but out of _restraint_. Lavi’s heart sank.

“… Allen?”

No answer. As he turned to look at his friend’s face he froze, horror flooding through him. Allen’s skin was darkening to a deep russet brown, his eyes cat-like slits of amber, and that was _not_ Allen’s face, not an expression he would ever wear and it was _horrifying_ , like someone had ripped off Allen’s face and put a bad imitation of it back on.

“Good afternoon, _Akuma_.”

His voice was like velvet, soft and sultry and altogether not Allen-like _at all_ and it made Lavi’s skin crawl. He had seen this happen before, but he knew no matter how often he was cursed to see this happen it would always leave him feeling uneasy and somewhat disgusted. He had no time to react for Allen - _not Allen_ \- raised his right hand and all four Akuma froze into place, eyes bulging. Allen - _not Allen noT ALLEN NOT ALLEN_ \- cricked his neck, once, twice, before fixing his gaze on the Akuma with a frown.

“Now now Akuma, you should think better of attacking one of your masters, hm?”

He clicked a finger and the Akuma shuddered, eyes dancing wildly about from floor to sky to floor to sky and it was dawning on Lavi far too late what was happening.

“W-we don’t have a choice! The will of the Earl is above yours, 14th, we can’t -”

Another finger clicked and the Akuma were in _agony_ , held in thrall by a power higher than their own and it was _horrifying_ to behold. Allen’s very aura had changed to something dark and rancid and all the dazzling brightness and goodness that he normally held was gone, replaced with something that was _inhuman_.

“That’s not a very good excuse now, _is it_?”

Black stars appeared on all four Akuma’s foreheads.

“N-no please we beg of you don’t -”

“Don’t _what_?”

One Akuma exploded, decorating the forest floor with gore. Then another, then another, until one was left and Allen - _NOT ALLEN NOT ALLEN NOT ALLEN NOT AL_ \- stepped forward, all fake smiles and fake kindness and as he cradled the Akuma’s head in his hands his expression darkened.

And then there were none.


	2. Hidden Motives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! Thank you to everyone who left kudos/comments on the first chapter, I'm so glad people enjoyed it!! I hope people also enjoy reading this chapter, and please let me know what you think with a comment. Thank you and enjoy!!

Silence, heavy and burdensome, surrounded itself around the forest clearing where Lavi stood, shaking, eye wide and full of horror.

Bits and pieces of what were once Akuma littered the ground at his feet, and standing but metres away from him was a person that was no longer ‘Allen’. Disgust filled him, because Allen would _never_ cause an Akuma to self-destruct, and the person stood before him was so completely different to the person he knew it was distressing to look at.

And so he stood, shaking, gaze fixed on the back of a person that was not his friend, not his companion; this person was a _Noah_ , and that thought tore his resolve to shreds. But as he slid a palm over his Innocence, torn between fighting and fleeing - and little did he know that only a few months before this Kanda had stood in a shadowed bedroom, holding a weapon to Allen’s neck, feeling exactly the same thing - the figure before him fell to his knees with a gasp.

He began to retch, coughing painfully and gasping for breath, and Lavi could do nothing more than watch with building confusion. Anger and fear faded and soon all Lavi was left with was a feeling he did not want: _pity_. Pity for Allen, who had no choice or say in the path he’d been forced upon - and _god_ did he know how that felt - and pity for the Noah who did not ask for this either. It was this feeling, amongst many others, that spurred Lavi on to walk forward, hand raised, and to speak.

“Are you… okay?”

The figure before him froze, and the unnatural resounding silence of the forest bore down upon them both, heavy and unwanted. Allen - _not Allen_ \- turned his head, skin pale once more with silver eyes squinting back at him, pained and wary, and managed a grim smile before wiping his mouth.

“I would be if I never had to see those godforsaken souls ever again.”

Lavi shuddered, remembering all too well how that sight made him feel oh so long ago at Krory’s castle - the horror, the stomach churning nausea, and pity for the one who had been cursed to see this nightmarish sight time-and-time again. And so he smiled, somewhat pained.

“I know the feeling…”

Silence; tension-filled awkward silence, and yet again the very air became heavy with unanswered questions and doubt and everything neither of them could voice. Lavi was wary, and horror still clung to the pit of his stomach leaving him feeling light-headed and sick, but even if the person before him was not Allen all he could do, for now, was co-operate and hope _he_ did the same.

And so, full of uncertainty and doubtful resignation, Lavi extended a hand, took a deep breath, and met the gaze of the person before him.

“I’m Lavi, we’ve uh, met before I guess.”

Silence, then quiet laughter; that smile was not Allen’s, not at _all_ , but it reached his eyes in a way that radiated amusement and playfulness and it soothed Lavi’s frayed nerves, if only by a little. Neah brushed aside his hand, pushing himself up with a slight wince.

“I believe we have, though I know your weapon a lot better than I know you.” Lavi flinched, smiling sheepishly. “And I suppose... you can call me Neah.”

“Neah… Walker?”

“Campbell. You should know that already, being a _Bookman_ and all.”

Lavi flinched but this time it was not from sheepish embarrassment and Neah saw _right through him_. As Lavi stared back at an expression of sardonic amusement and playfulness that reminded him far too much of another Noah - smiles and candy cane candles and having his mind completely and _utterly_ broken - he felt a tinge of fear that had far too little to do with the person sat before him.

He swallowed, audibly, before smiling - _fake fake fake_ \- and placing a shaking hand on his Innocence.

“We’d… we’d better be goin’. Don’t want the other Akuma to get here.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Neah smiled and Lavi looked away, stomach flipping and heart twisting, and all of that resolution was gone to be replaced with an anxiety that left him trembling and sweating and he couldn’t stop _thinking_ about it and his breathing was erratic and his heart was beating far too fast and those eyes were seeing _right through him_ he knew too much already -

“Oi.”

He froze, turning his head, eye wide and chest heaving from panic he had nearly succumbed to, but that _awful_ smile had gone and all that was left was a grim seriousness that calmed Lavi down, gradually, until he could breathe again.

“We need to go. The least you can do if I have to be stuck with your shitty presence is be useful.”

A scowl, tinged with the remnants of panic. “Oi, I know that.”

“Then let’s go. We can… _talk_ later.”

Lavi swallowed thickly, unable to speak. He nodded, activating his Innocence and keeping his eye glued to the ground before him. The hammer changed form effortlessly with a fluidity that Neah would have admired, if not for every single inch of his being screaming at him to destroy the accursed thing, and soon the hammer’s head was gone leaving a staff in its stead. Neah was shaking from the effort of resisting the instinctive urge to destroy it, and he began to question how well he could handle being so close to the damn thing. But there was no other choice, and Lavi was stood, waiting, staff in hand, refusing to meet his gaze.

Shuddering, placing himself behind Lavi and ignoring the weapon beneath him, a seal appeared as staff hit ground and then they were gone, moving quickly and purposefully through the trees and away from danger. It was a long and quiet journey and they spoke little; Lavi was panic-stricken and full of worry, Neah was tired and equally uninterested in conversation. Day passed into night, and it was long after sunset by the time they found a place Neah deemed safe for them to stop; far from Akuma and far from any nearby towns, Lavi noted. As they hit ground and dismounted Lavi deactivated his Innocence, returning it to the holster on his thigh, and observed the building before them with a mixture of relief and concern; it was an abandoned farm house with its front door ajar and a garden consumed by weeds. It had been left empty for a very long time and intentionally so, for the entire building was empty of most of its possessions bar the occasional piece of furniture, but the roof was mostly intact and it was shielded from the wind. It would do.

As Neah walked around the lower floor, hands behind his back and whistling as he went, Lavi checked the upstairs floor. The stairs nearly broke under his weight, the hallway floor just as insecure, but the rooms were empty. Lavi took a moment to compose himself, heart fluttering anxiously in his chest as fingers tapped idly against his thigh in a repetitive pattern, mind swaying from turning tail and running to confronting the Noah downstairs for answers to worrying if this meant Allen would not come back after all. It was that thought among all others that made his heart twist painfully and his stomach flip until he was left nauseous and dizzy from it all. But he reminded himself, repeatedly, that there was no other way and despite how… _malevolent_ Neah seemed beneath the surface, for the most part he seemed agreeable and willing to co-operate.

That would have to be enough.

The stairs creaked in protest as Lavi walked, slowly, down to a dimly lit hallway with mould growing in each of its corners. He turned rightwards, towards the wavering amber glow of a candle from a nearby room, the sounds of metal clanking and wooden drawers opening and closing. As he entered a small shadowed kitchen he saw Neah stood with his back to him, nosing through a cupboard full of grimy porcelain dishes.

“Upstairs is safe.”

Neah flinched, turning around with wide eyes and his right hand raised as if to defend himself. But upon seeing Lavi, stood with a narrowed eye and folded arms, he lowered his hand, wariness still evident in his expression.

“That’s… good…”

“Hm.”

Silence, heavy and awkward, and they found themselves unable to meet each other’s gaze. Knowing standing in uncomfortable silence would solve nothing Lavi sighed, walking towards a nearby cupboard and searching for a few minutes before taking a large metal pot out and placing it on the counter before him.

“Find any food?”

Lavi’s voice was quiet, but firm. Neah leaned against a counter and watched him, carefully.

“Some vegetables, some mouldy bread, couldn’t find anything else.”

“Pass the vegetables over would ya?”

“Sure.”

It was courteous and polite, this exchange, and Lavi tried his hardest to avoid looking at the man stood behind him. He did not want to share the warm familiarity he held for Allen with him, not while distrust and uneasiness still clawed its way deeper and deeper into his heart. But as he was handed a few miserable-looking potatoes he turned and gave a curt smile, and Neah acknowledged it and walked away, keeping his distance.

As he busied himself with preparing a measly stew, something that would hardly count as food but would at least put something warm in their stomachs, Neah simply stood and observed the person before him with curiosity. The way Lavi held himself was a strange balance between cold reservation and warm camaraderie and Neah could not figure out which of the two was an act. He would have to be careful for the Bookman Clan all held eyes like hawks, seeing through each and every pretence until you were laid bare before them, vulnerable and unable to hide anything as they endlessly watched. But he knew he was injured, all thanks to Allen’s stubborn desire to walk for miles and miles until their body was broken, and the company and help, if only for a little while, would be welcome to him.

However, rationality conflicted with the dark writhing thing that clawed at the corners of his mind, whispers of doubt and paranoia leaving him on edge. Could he trust the person before him? No, he couldn’t; not until he either proved he was useful, or proved he was too weak to be of any concern to him. Neah had soon learned that any member of the Bookman Clan was not to be taken lightly, often hiding a frightening amount of hidden strength behind reserved smiles and a veil of false truths, but the man before him was merely an apprentice, going by the recordings Tim had stored within itself, which meant he was safe to some extent.

He was far better off on his own, but for now keeping Lavi within arm’s reach would be the safest option until he could figure out his motives and find an easy way to either lose him or get rid of him; whichever was easier. For now, he would play the agreeable companion. And if he could glean some answers from the apprentice at the same time, if Lavi was inclined to speak, then putting up with the stranger’s presence would be of some use at least. But it seemed Lavi had his own questions to ask, and he spoke quietly while he faced forward, peeling and chopping and heating water over a tiny flame.

“How long have you guys been on the run then?”

“Over four months.”

Neah accepted Lavi’s use of plurals, curious to see how he would react to his wording. A small tilt of the head, a change in how he held himself; he would be easy to bait. His companion continued to speak, voice quiet.

“Any contact with the Order in that time?”

“No, but we did before. A man with glasses, and a man with a katana.”

Lavi resisted the urge to turn, surprised, and ask further questions. “And they stopped following you?”

There was concern in Lavi’s voice that clashed with the apathetic ideal the Bookman preached; Neah felt his eyes narrow, curious about why exactly the man before him cared in the slightest.

“Apocryphos showed up, trying to fuck up everything as always. So did the Noah, strangely enough, but I don’t know how we got away. We’ve been alone since then.”

A tiny lie, but it was not in Neah’s interests to share that particular encounter with anyone. Lavi shifted a little, scraping chopped vegetables into a pot with restrained frustration, knowing he was not in control of the conversation.

“And if I asked Allen what happened, would he know?”

“Perhaps.”

Neah’s voice was laced with amusement and Lavi found himself smiling, despite everything, for this exchange was full of hidden intentions on both their parts and they _both_ knew that. It was a performance Lavi had acted since childhood and rarely had he met someone who could match it. Allen did to an extent, hiding intent behind polite smiles and gentle gestures, but the boy rarely did so with any malevolent intent. Neah, on the other hand, was firmly making sure Lavi did not know more than he should. If he needed any further proof that the Noah in front of him had dealt with the Bookman Clan before - or at the very least people as persistent and watchful as the Clan - then this was it. He felt curiosity rise within him, a tiny flame building and building, but he dimmed its light and pushed it out of his thoughts. He placed a lid on the pot before him and turned, resting against the counter behind him, meeting Neah’s gaze with resolute determination.

“Here’s the deal. We both want answers, and this forced politeness ain’t workin’ for either of us, so if you ask your questions, I’ll answer ‘em, and you do the same. That alright with you?”

Neah blinked before laughing, a surprised and somewhat amused smile working its way onto his features.

“Well that all depends on what information you’re offering.”

His smile only widened at the concealed frustration in Lavi’s gaze. It was clear the other was impatient; yet another thing that clashed with the Bookman ideal. He felt curiosity rise, feeling a burning need to find out how exactly Lavi had ended up here, and what had happened to his ageing master.

As the silence continued to extend in the wake of Neah’s statement the Noah shrugged, leaning casually against the counter behind him.

“I suppose I don’t have a lot of choice. You go first then.”

“Alright. What’s the third side?”

Neah paused and then he _laughed_ , clutching at his stomach with eyes screwed shut and Lavi remained quiet, fingers digging painfully into the wood behind him.

“Oh, _oh_ that’s funny. The first question you ask and it’s _that_ one, you Bookmen intrigue me to no end.”

Lavi gritted his teeth. “Answer the question.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Lavi threw a glare his way and Neah returned it with an incredulous smile. “You seriously think that I’m going to sit here and tell you everything you need to know? Give away my life story so you can write it down and send it back to those old bastards who’ll do nothing with it?”

Lavi remained silent, eye narrowed, frustration and anger evident in his expression. Neah shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with a quiet laugh.

“At least the old man had the good sense to figure this stuff out behind my back, though I guess you asking upfront is a nice change.” Lavi froze, eye widening, fingers clutching the counter behind him so tightly his knuckles went white. Neah paused before looking up with a smile. “Well I suppose I’ve gotta give you some credit there. The third side is…”

Silence, and Lavi’s eye twitched in barely disguised irritation. Neah smiled, widely, before clapping his hands together.

“I don’t know.”

Lavi groaned. “Oh, cut the bullshit, would ya? If you ain’t gonna be serious I’ll leave you for the Noah.”

Neah gave a wide smile. “Ah but will you really do that, leave Allen to flee and die alone somewhere, with no-one to help him?”

“No, I wouldn’t. It’s in my best interests to keep him alive, for my record.”

His voice was firm, but detached, and Neah knew without a single shred of doubt that even if there was some truth to what Lavi had said he was also _lying_. He had tried to disguise how he had flinched at Neah’s words, and succeeded well enough that most wouldn’t have noticed. But Neah did and all he could think of was that this was _leverage_ , leverage he sorely needed. After a while Lavi spoke once more, voice quiet.

“So it’s in both our interests to work together, even if you act like a difficult annoying bastard.”

He smiled then, a fake strained smile, and Neah laughed, amused.

“So I have to put up with you otherwise you’ll do… what exactly? Leave me to do what I’ve been doing just fine on my own up until now?”

Lavi raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call starving yourself and wrecking your feet doin’ just fine, ya know.”

Neah scowled. “That’s not my fault. If this stupid fucking kid would just let me take over like he’s meant to then neither of us would be in this mess.”

“Oh, I don’t think Allen’s gonna do that anytime soon.” Lavi gave a knowing smile that only widened as both frustration and anger flashed in Neah’s eyes. “He’s the most stubborn guy I’ve ever met, you’re gonna be stuck in this mess for a long time.”

Neah exhaled sharply, looking away and settling into a stony silence. Lavi watched him carefully, noting the myriad of emotions flickering in silver hues - anger, frustration, impatience - and wondered how exactly he could come to an agreement with the Noah that stood before him. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he smiled.

“Alright, I have a lil proposition for ya.” Neah looked up, eyes narrowed in distrust. Lavi’s smile widened. “You need to get away from all these Akuma and Noah that are tailin’ you, right? But while you and Allen are playin’ tug of war over who gets to be in control you ain’t doing much more than ruining both your chances of surviving.”

Neah remained silent, but it was evident that he was at least listening to Lavi’s proposal, so he continued.

“You need someone around who isn’t gonna turn you in to the Order or the Noah and can keep you alive until either you or Allen come out on top, right? Otherwise that nice ol’ plan of yours ain’t ever gonna work out, is it?” Neah’s shoulders tensed up, eyes widening. “I get to continue my record and you get to survive long enough to figure somethin’ out. We got an agreement?”

For many long arduous minutes there was no reply. The Noah watched his companion carefully, trying to see past the playful exterior and find out what hidden intent this apprentice had. There was some truth to what he had said, and he knew enough about the Clan to understand that they were duty-bound to persist with their records until they were ordered to do otherwise. But there was something else too, most likely a deeply hidden concern for Allen’s safety; it was an annoyance, but both curiosity over this very unBookman-like apprentice and the knowledge that he could use this concern to his advantage let Neah make up his mind.

“Alright then, I guess we have an agreement. If you promise not to stab me in the back then I’ll… _behave_.”

“Agreed.”

Neah’s tone turned mocking. “Shall we shake on it? Or do you want us to pinky promise that we’ll be best friends forever and ever?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

The tension had eased between them and, despite the unanswered questions and lies on both their parts, there was more warmth and familiarity to this exchange than either of them had experienced in a very, _very_ long time. Even if the playfulness would most certainly drive Lavi insane it was far, _far_ better than dealing with a madman; Neah still had some humanity left in him, and that was enough for him to feel more relaxed, if only by a little.

After a moment of silence Lavi spoke, resignation clearly evident in his tone.

“So, will you answer my question? Or will I have to force it out of you?”

Neah smirked. “I’d like to see you try but, sadly, I’m not in any condition to fight you. Maybe another day, perhaps.”

“Perhaps…” Silence; Lavi seemed focused intently on counting each and every kitchen tile as Neah stood and watched him, eyes narrowed. Eventually Lavi continued, voice quiet. “I was wonderin’… where’s Timcanpy? I haven’t seen it around.”

“I… don’t actually know…” Neah looked away, genuine concern and sadness entering his expression. “It’s been gone since…” _since we encountered the Earl_ “… since we ran into the Noah. I haven’t seen it since. I’m worried it…”

Lavi shrugged. “Maybe it’s gone to find Cross?”

Neah shook his head. “I doubt it, Cross gave Tim to Allen after he disappeared, and Tim wouldn’t leave our side if that was the case.”

“Then it could be…”

Silence; Neah seemed pained at the thought of his beloved companion no longer existing, and Lavi knew that Allen was also feeling that pain, dreadfully so, and he felt sympathy for them both. It was this feeling that made him realise that, perhaps, Neah and Allen were not as different as it first appeared, and that let Lavi make up his mind on exactly _who_ he was helping. But Neah’s voice, quiet and sombre, interrupted his thoughts and brought him to an uneasy, lurching stop.

“Speaking of Tim… I saw its recordings, and _you_ were there, but not for a long while. Where’ve you been all this time, huh?”

It took far too long for Lavi to find an answer that he felt able to voice aloud; far, _far_ too long.

“I… was with the Order. Me and Gramps, we…” the silence was unbearable and Lavi’s hands were trembling “… were there as part of our record. But now… now I’m here.”

Neah froze, eyes narrowing with distrust. “Did Bookman order you here?”

“… Yes.” _And no_.

Silence befell them, and Lavi felt as if he had become transparent, if only for a moment. That burning silver gaze left him shaking and sickened by his inability to keep his composure, but it was still too soon - _far too soon_ \- and he wasn’t ready to speak of it, not yet, not when there was still so much he did not understand.

He did not know if Neah had realised he’d raised a sensitive subject, or if he felt satisfied that he’d not been ordered by the Church, but regardless of his thoughts on the matter he remained silent; watchful, but silent.

“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m _exhausted_ -” Neah yawned and Lavi felt too detached to care if it was even fake or not “- so how about you take first watch, hm?”

Lavi looked up then, eye narrowed, and was met with a small smile and it _bothered him_. But the man before him did, indeed, look exhausted - his eyes were rimmed with dark circles, face drawn and pale, eyelids drooping and limbs heavy. And so, despite the uneasiness he felt, Lavi nodded and watched as Neah walked away, stretching as he went. He waited until he heard the creak of each stair - ten, he’d counted - before burying his face in his hands and counting each second that passed until his body stopped shaking.

637 seconds passed, and as his body became still he stood in the shadows of that abandoned kitchen and grimaced.

It was going to be a very, _very_ long night.

* * *

Allen woke up to timid morning sunlight.

As it filtered through the cracks in the roof above him he listened quietly to the sound of songbirds, the wind whistling through broken doors, quiet daytime noises that left him feeling at peace with the world; a rarity, these days. But the world would not wait for him, and he did not recognise the room he had slept in - though falling asleep in unknown locations had become commonplace due to Neah’s influence - so, begrudgingly, he stood and stretched and walked out of a door hanging off its hinges to the dimly-lit space outside.

The hallway was in shambles; floorboards were snapped and broken, and mould was living quite happily in each and every dark damp corner. But the house would have been pleasant before, homely even, full of light and sombre colours and an air of comfort that meant you felt happy to return to this place when weary of the world. And yet it was empty, abandoned, and it left a bitter taste in Allen’s mouth as he stumbled, carefully, to a staircase that he doubted would hold his weight.

One step forward and the wood screeched in protest and so he waited, nervous, one foot poised before him and the other placed on unsteady ground. Another step and, again, the high-pitched creak of wood about to break and his tiny gasp for air were all that filled the silence surrounding him. Seconds passed and he waited until he felt ready to move before stepping forward, but the ground gave way and he was sent, plummeting, through splintered wood onto a hard unforgiving floor in a cloud of dust.

As he sat, coughing and brushing splinters off of his clothes, he heard rushed footsteps and saw Lavi, standing by a nearby doorway with a concerned expression that soon gave way to relief and a tired smile.

“Mornin’ clumsy.”

Allen hesitated. “Good… morning…”

“Sleep well?”

A shrug and awkward expression were all Allen could give as a reply. Lavi faltered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away before speaking.

“Well there’s… food in the kitchen for ya if you want it, it’s cold now though.”

“Ah… thank you I, uh, appreciate it.”

It was awkward, this exchange, far more tense than it should have been. But they were both tired, and despite the cold weight settling in their stomachs it was nice to admit that things weren’t the same, if only for a brief moment. And so Lavi smiled, quietly, in a way he never would have done back at the Order, and Allen understood: they didn’t have to pretend they were fine.

Allen gave a small smile. “Let’s eat… shall we?”

Lavi nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

They headed to the kitchen into warm sunlight, greeted by motes of dust drifting aimlessly from an open window to grimy flagstones. A pot of something-or-other that Allen hardly cared to name sat on a nearby counter, and after a brief search for a spoon he was happily eating to his heart - or stomach’s - content. After he was finished Allen gave a satisfied noise before leaning back, frustration evident in his expression.

“What does this guy do, purposefully starve himself? I feel like I haven’t eaten in weeks.”

Lavi shrugged. “He went to bed pretty early, was thinkin’ of waking him up for food but he slept sounder than a log.”

Allen paused and looked up at his companion, eyes narrowed. “Did anything… happen?”

“Apart from him being an annoyin’ little shit?” Lavi paused to think over what to say, quickly deciding to leave out certain events from the day before, in particular how Neah had defeated the Level Fours. “Nah, we got away from the Akuma and talked before he slept, and then you made a dashing entrance by breaking the stairs.”

Lavi grinned and Allen looked away, embarrassed. After a while Allen pulled a face and wrung his hands together.

“I’m glad he didn’t…”

“Didn’t what, hurt me?”

Allen nodded, gaze fixed on the floor. Lavi rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

“We didn’t talk much but… I honestly don’t think he’s a bad guy, Allen. For now, it’s convenient for him to be on my good side, so I don’t think ya need to worry.”

Allen didn’t reply, quiet and unsure. It made sense for Allen to be worried, since his only knowledge of the person sharing his body was that he was a Noah determined to achieve his own aims no matter how much blood he spilt. But to Lavi it seemed less that Neah was a madman eager for death and destruction and more that he wanted an end, an end by his own hands.

Lavi could understand that much.

He sighed, voice soft. “Listen, I understand it’s probably really weird havin’ that guy around. I ain’t gonna tell you to trust him or whatever, but I won’t keep things from ya either so while he’s there and you’re not I can tell you what happens, if you want me to.”

Allen looked up and was met with a strange mix of both seriousness and understanding, and it was odd, seeing Lavi like this. It showed how much had changed since they’d last seen each other, and Allen wasn’t sure how he felt about it. But it was more advice than he’d been given so far, and the fear that had been gnawing away at him since the Ark gave way, if just by a little.

“I’d… I’d like that, thank you.”

Lavi smiled, and it set Allen at ease. The warm sunshine finally seeped itself into his bones, and he felt relief settle itself there, too. If only for a little while - until he had the strength to walk away - he had someone to rely on.

After a moment of silence Lavi spoke, interlacing his fingers behind the back of his head.

“So… what’s the plan, then?”

“Hm?”

Allen looked up, confused, and Lavi met his gaze with a serious expression.

“What do you think we should do?”

Allen didn’t reply for a long while, gaze fixed on the dirty floor beneath his feet. He had spent so long simply running, giving no further thought to his situation than necessary, that being asked for a plan instilled a deep unsettling fear within him. Putting one foot before the other and thinking of nothing beyond _don’t stop, keep walking_ ; that had been his life since he’d left the Order. The idea of a plan, when all he could really do was run away from the inevitable, seemed laughable.

“I don’t… I don’t know. There isn’t really anything more I can do but…”

“But what?”

“Keep running.”

Lavi paused. “From what?”

“From everything.” There was an edge to Allen’s voice now, and his words seemed full of desperation and bitter weariness. “Lavi, I can’t _do_ anything. At some point Neah will… and I won’t be… here anymore, there’s nothing I can really do but keep going until -”

“Until you no longer exist, right?”

Allen swallowed thickly, eyes downcast. Lavi sighed and looked away, and after a few minutes of tense silence he spoke, his voice quiet and full of sympathy. But there was something else, hidden behind his words, that left Allen feeling unsettled.

“I don’t know if you’ll make it through this -” Allen’s heart twisted, painfully “- and I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best to help you however I can. Talk me through what’s happened, since you left the Order.”

Allen faltered before answering, and the day swiftly passed from dim morning sunlight to an afternoon of orange and scarlet skies as he detailed the journey he had taken since leaving the Black Order. It took a surprising amount of time to cover what had happened, since to Allen it felt like an endless blur of fleeing and hiding. But Lavi had frequently interrupted him to ask him questions, and at points it felt less like a heart-to-heart and more like an interrogation, though he supposed it was in Lavi’s nature as a Bookman to be that way. By the end he felt _exhausted_. But it had been helpful, and simply talking it through eased some of the weight that had made itself at home on his shoulders, and so despite the tiredness seeping itself into his bones, he felt better for it.

Lavi took a moment to sift through everything Allen had told him before pushing himself forward from the counter he was resting against.

“Well, that took longer than I thought, but I think I know what we should do now.”

“You do?”

Lavi nodded, smiling. “Yep. I thought about us going back to the Order, but I don’t think you or Neah wanna do that, huh?” Allen pulled a face and Lavi laughed. “I thought so. And from the sounds of it that… what’s its face…?”

“Apocryphos.”

“Yeah, that scary bastard. You haven’t heard from it since you escaped the Earl, so it’s probably stopped tailing you, but you still can’t activate your Innocence can you?”

Allen sighed, raising his right hand to grip at his left arm with a bitter expression.

“No… Back then it would activate, but all those feathers would cover it and it was painful… Now I can’t activate it at all, but the feathers don’t appear either.”

Lavi frowned. “Hm. Then I’d say we’re safe from it for now, though it’s weird for it to just stop tailin’ you… But we don’t have those answers right now, so there’s no use thinking too hard about it, though we should be careful in case it comes back. The Order hasn’t made contact in that time either, so I’d say right now our biggest worry is the Noah and Akuma huntin’ you down.”

Allen paused before speaking, voice quiet and full of unease. “What do we do about that though? As long as Neah’s here with me they won’t ever stop, and without my Innocence working I can’t fight without…”

“Without me here, right?”

Allen nodded, fear settling itself in his heart until it hurt to breathe for the last thing he needed, and the thing he needed most, was a companion; a companion that could help, a companion he could _hurt_.

He faltered, stumbling over his words as he spoke. “But… surely you need to return to the Order, they probably need you over there more than I do.”

Silence befell them before Lavi responded with a darkening expression, voice sombre. “Maybe, but as far as they’re concerned I never made it out of the Noah’s headquarters alive.” Lavi laughed, bitterly. “Or maybe I abandoned my record to do whatever the Bookman Clan wanted of me. I was never there to…”

He stopped with a sigh, eye closed and expression pained. When he looked up to meet Allen’s gaze he seemed tired, full of resignation.

“To be honest with you… I don’t know what I’m _meant_ to do. But all I _do_ know is that I found you, and you’re in a bind and could do with a hand, so I’ll stay and do my best to help, if you want me to.”

“… You sure you don’t mind?”

“’Course not. It means I get to annoy you with my presence like I used to.”

Lavi smiled brightly as he spoke; it was an offer of kindness, of help and sorely needed company. But, again, Allen could see something obscured behind his smile and it left him feeling uneasy for reasons he could not explain. But despite this uneasy feeling Allen laughed, and despite the uncertainty Lavi felt at staying, it warmed his heart to see hope in his friend’s eyes once more, to see the dazzling brightness he had come to associate with him still shine brightly underneath so much fear and pain.

Even though Allen was terrified of having someone around, knowing that someone would be by his side was also comforting. Despite the fear and doubt, the knowledge that they were no longer alone was enough to make them take another step forward.


	3. Doubt and Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! Sorry this took nearly a month to get out, life hasn't been very kind to me lately. Thank you so much to everyone who left kudos/comments on the previous chapter(s), I hope you enjoy reading this, and let me know what you think with a comment!!

The house was lit up with gold as daylight brightened around them.

They had left the next morning, as rested and ready as they’d ever be to begin what they knew would be a tiresome and dangerous journey. The phrase ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ crossed Lavi’s mind as they began to walk, very well aware that every step of the way Noah would tail them and Akuma would try to kill them, and if they ran into Apocryphos or the Order they’d be lucky to make it out alive. It didn’t help that there wasn’t necessarily a _plan_ , per say - until Allen’s Innocence recovered from the lack of food and Apocryphos’s attack, there wasn’t a lot they could do to take action against the Noah or Akuma but keep moving.

For the moment all they could do was what they had been doing all this time; keep walking.

Their progress was slow. Although Lavi’s body was well-fed and in good shape, in comparison Allen and Neah’s was not; they had spent many months on their feet without food or water or rest, and whatever they got of that was few and far between. Even after nearly four days of rest they were still in very poor shape, and their feet were still recovering. As Allen walked, he stumbled, and many times Lavi had to help him up and keep an eye on him. Although Lavi’s Innocence would allow them to travel faster and ease their tiredness, with no destination in mind it was pointless to use it unless they had to escape to safety, which happened far more often than they would have liked.

Their first battle after leaving the house was short and sweet: a few Level Ones came towards them, and within seconds they were destroyed with a Fire Seal. The next battle and the ones following it were longer and far more difficult, and often they had to make an escape before the battle’s end. Level Fours rarely appeared, which was a small blessing, but Level Threes and hordes of Twos and Ones were still tough opponents to face. Allen watched Lavi’s back, doing as much damage as he was capable with his bare fists - which, considering his physical state, was impressive - and Lavi fought, and he fought _brilliantly_.

Allen found himself, over and over, marvelling at how much the transition to Crystal Type changed everything. He hadn’t had time to observe Lenalee fight since he had barely had any missions with her after the Level Four attacked the Order, though her monstrous increase in speed during that fight alone said more than enough. Kanda’s newly acquired strength, also, was unknown to Allen since his Innocence evolved after he had left, and he had barely spent a day in his company since he had been unconscious for most of his time with him.

But with Lavi he had the time to observe, admire, and almost fear how strong Innocence could become. Speed, strength, durability - these were all things the three wielders of Crystal Type Innocence shared. Their weapons were able to deal more damage, take more damage, and move faster and more efficiently in battle so that their user seemed near untouchable. Before this change Lavi had been slow in battle - though he dealt incredible damage even back then - but now it seemed his Innocence had accounted for that weakness; the way it moved was fluid and graceful, and no matter what its size, it moved faster and with more accuracy. The seals it produced were stronger also, and two new ones that Allen didn’t recognise had appeared alongside the others: Water and Earth.

But despite the admiration he felt, there was also jealousy, and _fear_. Without his Innocence working, Allen felt useless, like unwanted baggage, and the fact that his arm simply didn’t work was frustrating beyond measure. At least, back when it was nearly destroyed by Tyki Mikk, it had been missing from his body until it reformed. Now it simply existed, unusable and useless, and despite trying many, _many_ times to activate it refused to listen.

Apocryphos may have stopped following him, but its presence lingered and it left a bitter taste in Allen’s mouth.

The thought that Neah could take over completely, since his Innocence refused to work, also made Allen feel more and more uneasy as time passed. In the days after leaving the abandoned house, Neah hadn’t taken over at all; either that, or Lavi hadn’t been entirely honest when he promised to inform him if he had appeared. Allen had coped with the minimal amount of sleep possible during his time on the run, since falling unconscious often signalled the change in control, but Lavi had forced him to sleep. _Your body’s in a shit enough state as it is, the last thing you should be doing is addin’ lack of sleep to the mix_. Allen had grumbled, but Lavi was as fair as he was stubborn and, ultimately, he was right. If Lavi was correct, Neah had no intentions of causing any trouble yet. And so Allen slept, begrudgingly, but he woke often and felt no better for the sleep he’d had.

The recurring nightmare of sinking endlessly into darkness, never to appear again, refused to leave him be no matter how much Lavi reassured him.

During the coming days Allen also had time to think about the friend he, by happenstance, had started to travel with. At times he was tiring in a way that left Allen irritable and on edge; he had forgotten how infuriating Lavi’s teasing and immature humour could be when he was in a bad mood. But, at other times, he was a source of comfort and advice. Whenever Allen woke from a nightmare, shaking and sweating and breathing hard, Lavi would hand him a flask of water and offer to swap places so Allen could keep watch, knowing full well sleep would be hard to come by. He wouldn’t question, he wouldn’t force him to talk; he was silent and watchful in a way that wasn’t imposing, and it reassured Allen. But he also felt guilty, for he didn’t intend to keep him around for fear of him - no, not him, _Neah_ \- causing any harm, and so he had decided from the start that he would leave as soon as his Innocence recovered.

Or, at least, that was what he intended to do.

For it seemed, despite the confidence and strength Lavi exuded, something was _deeply_ wrong. Even if he hid it well, Allen was around him long enough for that mask to slip, and it worried him greatly. Lavi had never shown any sign of thinking too hard about things, at least in front of Allen and the others, and he had always seemed like a laid back and easy-going sort of person. But when Allen found sleep hard to come by, he would see Lavi sat in the dark of their temporary abode, shaking, tapping his fingers restlessly and counting under his breath to calm himself. At first Allen had wondered, with guilt, if it was his - or perhaps Neah’s - presence that was causing his friend so much distress. But, as the days passed, it became obvious that something had happened during Lavi’s time with the Noah; the lack of Bookman’s presence said enough.

But Allen knew grief, he knew it all too well; it was dark and heavy, it left you empty and altogether numb to the world. And Lavi showed it, sometimes, when it became too much to bear. But the anxiety he was showing, alongside a deep uncertain fear of something Allen didn’t know of, made Allen worry more than he would’ve done if Lavi was simply grieving.

He walked, and watched, and worried, and hoped that in the end he would have the courage to leave for Lavi’s own good, before he - no, not he, _Neah_ \- hurt him, though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was for his own good or his friend’s.

And so the following days passed in an endless cycle of running and fighting and hiding and worrying. In that time they hadn’t met anyone from the Order, or Apocryphos, or any Noah, and it did nothing to reassure them; it felt like the calm before a storm, and it left them tense and uneasy. Allen’s Innocence still wouldn’t activate, and despite Lavi’s increased strength all the fighting was taking its toll on user and weapon. Both had born witness to Cross’s words, back then on a cold rainy night at the Order. _His life was hellish after he tried to kill the Earl._ The question of how long they could last was forever there, always at the edge of their thoughts.

But Allen knew he had no other choice, that he would rather die than give up and forsake what he had promised Mana all those years ago. Even if it was pointless, even if in the end he was erased and taken over by the 14th, he would disappear knowing he had at least never given up. But the one thing he couldn’t understand, during the days that they hid and ran and fought, was why Lavi was even _there_.

The day they left the house he had asked him, quietly, the reason why he wasn’t returning to the Order. And he had replied that as a member of the Bookman Clan he had to record what happened to Allen. _No hard feelings, it’s just… my job_. It had hurt, those words, but in a way it would make things a lot easier for Allen when he eventually had to leave. He supposed Lavi would try and find him, then give up and be tasked with something else to do. But, then again, it didn’t feel _right_. Lavi had shown him care and compassion, had always been worried about him and kept an eye on him. They had fought alongside each other for so long that it seemed silly to think that, beneath all that, it was just a _job_.

But, he supposed, Lavi was good at hiding things and, perhaps, he didn’t know him as well as he’d thought.

As time passed, they lapsed into speaking very little, barely more than they needed to. They walked mostly in silence, which was unusual for Lavi; he would usually talk incessantly about God knows what until Allen’s head hurt. When they rested and took turns keeping watch they spoke little, and even when Allen attempted to talk about something - the Order, the scenery, his hunger, idle thoughts and feelings - Lavi rarely gave anything more than tired and blunt replies until Allen gave up and settled for silence. He hadn’t realised until now how much he appreciated how easy Lavi was to get along with. His usual warm familiarity, with his smiles and teasing jokes and nicknames, was irritating at times but it was also reassuring.

Despite all their trust in one another, these secrets and unknowns were making what would have previously been easy and light-hearted into something difficult and awkward, and it left them tense and exhausted.

And then Neah returned.

It had been in the middle of a fight - a few Level Ones and Twos, nothing to be concerned about - and just as Lavi prepared to destroy the final Akuma with a Fire Seal a black star appeared on its forehead, its life ending by its own power puppeteered by another. Lavi turned and saw brown skin turn pale, golden eyes return to silver, the distrustful and playful countenance that Neah held coming to the forefront.

Lavi lowered his weapon, deactivating it and returning it to its holster, watching Neah carefully. The Noah shot him a glance before brushing himself down and looking around, eyes narrowed against the harsh light of the sun. Lavi paused before shrugging, heading into the direction he and Allen had been aiming for before they were attacked, a resigned sigh escaping his lips when he heard footsteps follow behind him.

Allen had always been a quiet travelling companion, settling for a comfortable silence with small comments about their surroundings or where they were heading. But if Allen had been quiet then Neah was quieter so, at least for the moment; the Noah barely spoke, following behind Lavi with a resigned apathy towards his unwanted company and where they were headed.

Lavi refrained from asking questions, relieved to finally lower the pretence of friendly cheer that he had struggled to maintain in Allen’s presence. It was tiring enough to keep up the mask of ‘Lavi’ normally, but when he was already exhausted from other matters it was both irritating and impossible to keep it up. It was strange to think that he felt so little resentment towards Neah’s presence over Allen’s own, but there were benefits to being around someone who knew so little about who he pretended to be. However, it came with the added downside of Neah knowing who he was _meant_ to be, and he was consciously aware that he was doing just as badly at keeping up the pretence of the faithful duty-bound apprentice as he was the cheerful Exorcist of the Black Order.

He knew far too well that it would not take long for Neah to question whether his proposal to aid him and Allen was out of duty or care.

Neah did not comment on the other’s silence, glad to pass the time without any unneeded false friendliness. It was a temporary arrangement, as far as he was concerned; he was stuck with the Bookman apprentice until he had the chance to get rid of him. Killing him was something he wished to avoid, knowing full well that Bookman would cut all ties with him if he did so. The third side, as well as the neutrality of the Bookman Clan, were the only things he could semi-rely on - though his paranoia doubted even their apparent faithfulness to him - and with the state of his supporters being unknown to him it would be… _unwise_ to cause any problems between the Bookmen and himself for now.

He decided that he would treat Lavi as he did nearly all the humans who had followed him and offered assistance; wariness. He wasn’t useless - he was good in a fight, though Neah felt disgusted towards his Innocence nonetheless. He was also used to living away from civilisation, which made finding food and shelter easier than if he’d been around someone less able to survive in such conditions. Lavi asked few questions, having learned from their conversation a few days prior that Neah would not willingly give him information, and for the most part he was at least tolerable to have around.

There was also leverage if he did start to cause Neah any trouble. As well as the evident concern and care he felt for Allen - a friend, how laughable that a Bookman would succumb to such a thing - there was something else, something that left Lavi constantly uneasy. At first Neah wondered if _he_ was causing such a feeling to arise within his unwanted companion, greatly amused and somewhat pleased that his very presence could instil fear in others. But he discovered, with a small amount of disappointment, that it was for another reason.

Something had happened, something that Timcanpy had not observed and Allen did not know about either; he felt curious to find out exactly what it was, eager to have the upper hand. It took a day or so for Neah to remember how Lavi had reacted towards the mention of his master, and so he took every opportunity to subtly mention Bookman to his companion, noting how easily it both angered and distressed Lavi to hear it. However, after a day of poking and prodding him to snap and reveal what had happened, Neah was instead greeted with a fist in his face and a broken nose.

Lavi punched hard, which was something worth noting.

After making a comment on how little reluctance Lavi seemed to have towards hurting him, and how much he actually cared about Allen if he was so willing to punch someone who looked exactly like him, he was met with stony silence. The Bookman seemed to have a surprising amount of restraint on occasion, and after trying and failing to get his companion to lose his temper again Neah grumpily resigned himself to silence once more.

That night Lavi took first watch - a recurring habit, it seemed - and after Neah reluctantly slept it was not he who awoke. Sitting up with a groan, hand raised to gently touch the swollen and broken skin at the bridge of his nose, Allen winced before turning towards Lavi, who was sat facing away from him with his back against a nearby tree.

“Lavi… why is my nose broken?” Greeted with silence, Allen scowled before standing up and prodding the side of Lavi’s head. “Hey, you shouldn’t be asleep if you’re supposed to be on watch, stupid Lavi.”

Wordlessly his companion stood, grabbing him by the arm and directing him back towards the now-extinguished campfire which Allen - or rather, Neah - had fallen asleep beside. Before Allen could speak Lavi relit the fire with a match and some kindling, bringing some illumination to the otherwise dark woods they had taken shelter in. He turned to face him, expressionless and detached, placing firm hands on Allen’s shoulders to sit him down. Allen blinked, watching Lavi carefully as he sat down in front of him and looked at the injury he had caused, gently touching the broken skin and the area around it.

“Well, your nose doesn’t need straightening.”

Allen scowled. “Why do you sound disappointed about that?”

Lavi paused before looking away, both guilt and lingering irritation evident in his expression. Allen sighed before prodding Lavi’s forehead, eyes narrowed.

“You forget this is my face too, asshole. Next time you feel the need to hit something maybe go for an Akuma inste-”

“I’m sorry.”

Allen paused, expression softening as he noticed Lavi would not meet his gaze, visible regret in his eye as it fixed on the nearby campfire. Allen sighed, bringing his fist down lightly upon Lavi’s head before speaking in a quiet tone.

“It’s fine.” He paused before attempting to cheer up his companion, smiling brightly. “I’ve had way worse than a broken nose, so you shouldn’t worry about it.”

Lavi grimaced, though his lips pulled up into the smallest of smiles regardless, and Allen brought his fist down on Lavi’s head once more, concern filtering through into his words.

“Is he… causing you a lot of trouble then?”

Lavi paused before shaking his head, rubbing the back of his neck with a strained smile.

“Nah, he just doesn’t know when to back off sometimes.”

Tiredness and frustration were evident in Lavi’s expression, and it did little to ease the worry that had arisen within Allen since he had noticed the state his friend was in. Though, in Lavi’s defence, he hid it well most of the time at least. Knowing that asking unwanted questions would do little to make Lavi feel better, Allen settled for moving back to his previous spot by the campfire, warming his hands by the flames before offering Lavi a smile.

“You get some rest, I’ll take the next watch okay?”

Lavi hesitated before nodding, standing up to move to the other side of the fire. Taking off his coat and folding it up haphazardly before using it as a makeshift pillow, Lavi turned to face away from the fire and settled into silence. He felt relieved that Allen hadn’t asked him for the reasons why he lost his temper, and it eased some of the tension that had kept him awake and uneasy since they had settled in the woods for the night. It did not take long to fall asleep, exhausted from a day of walking and having to ignore the emotions he was trying so hard to restrain, particularly in the presence of the Noah who would undoubtedly use whatever he could to get what he wanted from him.

And across from him Allen watched the flickering flames before his eyes, every now and then reaching up to touch his nose and wince, failing to ignore the bitterness welling up within him.

Things were already changing, perhaps more than he could ever hope to fix.

* * *

The morning arose with all the timid gentleness late autumn could offer. After rubbing at his face tiredly, wincing as he temporarily forgot about his injury, Allen took a moment to observe the surroundings, unknown to him by the light of day due to Neah’s presence.

The woods were giving their last attempt to persist in the wake of the approaching winter, leaves of flame and fire falling to fade into the mud beneath. Bare branches adorned with dwindling leaves, wisps of fog and the smell of wet earth; it was peaceful here, surrounded by nature in its dying days. Since his time on the run had begun, Allen had found himself taking moments like this often, as if seeing the world around him for the first time. No, not the first; it was as if it was his last. The bitter chill seeping into his bones, the array of colour amongst the darkened bark of dying trees; it was a stark reminder that he was still here, still living and breathing. It left him feeling sombre, a strange combination of both bitterness and reverence. This world would exist whether he was in it or not, and though that caused him pain, it was also comforting. For now, there was a world to live within, places to observe, things to see and smell and taste.

Until the day the world ended, or he ceased to exist, there was a place for him under these endless skies.

A quiet groan and shifting of fabric brought Allen out of his reverie, gaze drifting from the sky and leaves above his head to the other side of the now extinguished campfire. He watched as eventually, with a stretch and slight wince, Lavi sat up, running fingers through fiery strands as he sleepily observed his surroundings. It was strange, how exhausted Lavi seemed despite having slept - as far as he knew - since Allen had kept watch. Though, perhaps, it was simply that at times like this his friend’s guard was lowered, the mask slipping just enough to show what was hidden beneath. Allen knew he was the same, often having to fake a smile and lie every time Lenalee or Link saw him wake up and questioned if he was alright back at the Order, nightmares and persistent exhaustion making it all the harder to keep up the act of being fine.

But it would do no good to dwell on it, so Allen stood up, stretching his arms above his head, giving his companion a smile when Lavi’s gaze met his own.

“Morning. Sleep well?”

Lavi paused before yawning, rubbing at his eye with clumsy gestures. “Well enough, I guess. Anythin’ happen while I was asleep?”

Allen shook his head. “Nothing. A few rabbits were curious about the campfire just before dawn but they didn’t stay for long.”

“Should’ve given them one of the carrots we stole the other day.”

Allen tilted his head. “We stole food?”

Lavi had to take a moment to register that Neah had been the one to assist him in finding food, and he offered an awkward smile in apology. If Allen had been hurt by his lack of tact, he didn’t appear to show it, making his way to Lavi’s bag to check on their supplies with a neutral expression. Lavi rubbed the back of his neck, making a mental note to be more careful about how he referred to what had happened while either Allen or Neah weren’t present. Allen sifted through the bag’s contents, stealing an apple - and resisting the urge to take the other three as well - and biting into it before standing, picking up the bag and flinging it in Lavi’s direction, who glared up at him.

“Oi, be careful, ‘sprout. This has gotta keep us goin’ until we find another abandoned house or unwary farmer.”

Allen scowled. “Th’ name’s ‘llen.”

“Len? I didn’t realise you used that nickname.” Lavi grinned widely at the glare thrown his way. “So what’s better, Len or beansprout?”

“Neither. I have a name so use it, stupid Lavi.”

“Alright, alright, no need to get grumpy. All ready to head off?”

Allen nodded. “Sure. Whereabouts are we anyway?”

Lavi took a moment to root through his bag before taking out a worn map that looked as if it had seen better days. Finishing off his apple before throwing the core at the base of a nearby tree, Allen sat by Lavi’s side and peered over his shoulder.

“We’re around here somewhere -” Lavi pointed to a spot on the map with a finger “- probably… a few days out from Brioude?”

Allen paused before pointing northeast of the place Lavi had pointed out. “So, we’re going to keep heading in this direction?”

Lavi nodded. “Unless we get blocked off by Akuma, that’s the plan, yeah. It’d probably be a good idea to cross over into Germany when we can, might use Iron Hammer to throw anyone off our trail and head a bit further north than expected.”

“Alright, sounds like a good idea. If we head up towards Aachen, I know a good place where we can lay low for a while.” Lavi raised an eyebrow in reply to Allen’s words, who simply gave his companion a bright smile. “Someone owes me a favour.”

Lavi paused before shrugging. “Well, I probably shouldn’t ask why knowin’ you. It’d be great to sleep somewhere other than shitty stables or outside for once though, ain’t missed it much.”

Allen gave a quiet laugh. “Agreed. I thought I’d never be that comfortable sleeping in a proper bed when I got to the Order, but now I’m too used to it.”

At the mention of the home the both of them had been forced, for one way or another, to abandon, they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, thoughts of their friends at the Order prevalent in their minds. Lavi was the first to push such thoughts away, far too used to ignoring whatever reminded him of things he ought to place out of sight and out of mind. He stood, folding up the map and returning it to his bag before gesturing to his left and starting to walk. Allen took a moment to take a deep breath, exhaling softly before following behind him, trying to ignore the lump that had formed in his throat.

Initially it was slow going, traversing through mazes of trees and roots determined to trip them up. Allen nearly lost his way multiple times, and within the first hour Lavi forced him to walk in front so he could keep an eye on him, muttering about how his sense of direction should have improved by now. By midday they had left the confines of the small forest, greeted by cloud-obscured sunlight and endless fields. The prospect of coming across farmland - which meant crops to steal from and potential places to take shelter for the night - spurred Allen and Lavi onwards, the burning ache at the base of their heels dimming in comparison to the need for small comforts.

Within a few hours they’d managed to steal some cabbages and potatoes, narrowly avoiding being spotted by a rather disgruntled farmer and his two sheepdogs. Lavi felt satisfied by what they’d managed to get, but after walking past an open window with the delicious smell of freshly baked pastry wafting towards them Allen insisted they try and barter their way into a bed for the night - and for more food, of course. All it took was a story as fake as the tears Allen mustered up - in surprisingly perfect French, no less - to persuade the woman stood in the doorway before them to allow him and Lavi to stay the night. Stew and an apple pie so good that both Allen and Lavi barely resisted the urge to ask for more, as well as a warm bath and a proper bed to sleep in, left the both of them dreading the eventual goodbye, knowing they would have to leave the comfort of this abode after spending the night.

But wherever Allen - and Neah by proxy - went Akuma would soon follow, and risking the lives of the people who were giving them shelter was out of the question.

As night drew upon them, Allen settled down into soft bedsheets, falling asleep quicker than he had expected; he was more exhausted from the day’s walk than he’d been aware of. Flashes of images passed over his vision as he slept - stone walls, a warm hand on his back, the smell of food, familiar voices, the feeling of _home_ \- and it stirred him into wakefulness as dawn’s early light filtered through the gap in the nearby curtains.

For a long while he simply stared up at the darkened ceiling, gripped by a feeling he didn’t want to acknowledge. Leaving the Order had been harder than anything he’d ever done. To have finally gained a home, a family of various people who treated him with kindness and respect, only to lose it because of something - or rather _someone_ \- outside of his control was almost too much to handle. He still couldn’t ignore the memories in his mind, of suspicious glances and muttered words behind raised hands, whispered words of _the 14th_ ; people had stopped seeing him as ‘Allen Walker’, for in their eyes he’d become a threat in their midst. Most of the other Exorcists had still shown him warmth and compassion, but it had been tinged with a nameless emotion that left Allen feeling isolated and alone, even amongst friends.

It reminded him far too strongly of days that were better left in the past, days that should be long since forgotten about and left to fade into dust. His childhood had been characterised by endless years of distrust and fear, surrounded by people who either cared not for his existence, or used him in whatever way they saw fit. Whenever he walked past, strangers would comment in whispered tones just loud enough for him to hear - _What happened to his arm? What a disgusting-looking child, how unseemly_ \- until he felt self-conscious and paranoid, painfully aware of the burden he’d been born with. Until Mana had come along he’d been dreadfully alone, trusting no-one and relying only on himself, and to return to those darkened days because of his father’s brother was bitterly ironic.

But it would do no good to think of it, he knew; thinking about such things did little but make his heart hurt, leave him feeling bitter and resentful and terribly alone.

Such things were better off left in the dark, where they belonged.

Shaking his head where he lay, Allen pushed himself up with a sigh, trying to push away the cloying feeling of bitterness that clutched at his heart. Stretching a little, he turned his head and noticed that Lavi was perched on the side of the bed across from him, head lowered, a small leather-bound book in his hands.

“Lavi?”

No response. Allen faltered, a frown forming on his features. It felt different somehow, the way Lavi was sat, the blank expression on his face, and with concern rising within him Allen reached forward and placed a hand on Lavi’s shoulder.

Lavi flinched, moving backwards sharply and banging his head on the wall behind him. Rubbing the back of his head, Lavi stared wide-eyed at Allen for a moment before giving an uneasy smile.

“Ah, I -” Allen continued to frown at him, and it did nothing to ease the panicked beating of his heart. “I, uh, was in a world of my own there for a moment.”

He managed a quiet laugh, and it comforted Allen enough for him to settle back, a sigh leaving parted lips. For a moment they sat in silence, an awkward tension rising within the both of them, before Allen raised a hand and pointed at the book in Lavi’s lap with a smile slowly appearing on his face.

“You keep a diary?”

Lavi faltered, almost as if he’d forgotten the book was even there. He pulled a face. “Why do I get the feelin’ you’re makin’ fun of me when you say that?”

Allen’s smile grew. “What makes you think that? I’m sure most people keep diaries.”

Lavi huffed. “Yep, you’re makin’ fun of me.” He leant forward and tucked the book into the bag propped up against the nearby bedside counter, before lying back on the bed with a sigh. “Anyway, diaries are for shit like ‘today I saw a cute girl and she smiled at me’, that old thing is boring.”

“Why’s that?”

Lavi paused. He turned to meet Allen’s gaze, seeing genuine curiosity in his face, and wondered for a moment whether he should say anything. A strong feeling welled up within him, something he couldn’t define, before he turned away a little and shrugged.

“It’s a… personal record, kinda, somewhere to write some… important things down.”

Allen gave a wry smile, tinged with bitterness. “Important things such as ‘today the 14th pissed me off and I punched him’, I’m guessing?”

Lavi froze. Guilt wormed its way into his heart, leaving him feeling uneasy. Despite feeling Allen’s gaze fixed on him, he couldn’t look up and meet it, not in that moment. A tense silence descended upon them, leaving Lavi feeling more and more agitated, until Allen gave a loud sigh and fell back against his bed with a _thunk_.

“Well, can’t say I blame you. He probably deserved it.”

“Yeah, but _you_ didn’t.”

Lavi’s voice was quiet, filled with an emotion that made Allen falter for a moment. He looked over and saw guilt in Lavi’s expression, face illuminated by the pale light of dawn, and wondered exactly how much of what he’d been told had been the truth. _No hard feelings, it’s just… my job_ \- how true were those words? For someone who was purely meant to be there to record him - or rather the 14th - surely it mattered very little how Allen felt. He felt hope rise within him, wanting to hold on to the thought that Lavi truly meant what he had said when they’d left the house only a few days prior, that he wished to help him.

There was still so much that Allen didn’t understand, and he knew that his doubts about Lavi’s reasons for accompanying him, and the implications those reasons held, would not fade any time soon, but knowing that Lavi seemed to care, at least in the sense that causing him any harm or inconvenience made him feel guilty or regretful, was enough for now.

Regardless of his doubts Allen still trusted him, and only time would tell whether he was wrong to do so.

As the silence extended between them, Allen felt the bitterness that had risen within him fade. He gave a sigh and spoke, voice soft.

“I forgive you, Lavi.” He saw Lavi’s gaze meet his own and smirked. “It just means the next time we’re in town and a pretty woman walks past, I’ll tell her you keep a diary and drool while you sleep.”

Lavi couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head a little with a smile. “Fair enough, I kinda deserve that.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, and the tension that had arisen within the both of them since they had reunited faded into the backs of their minds. As Allen busied himself with getting ready to leave, hurriedly rushing downstairs to say his goodbyes - and to find more food, in all likelihood - Lavi followed behind, lost in thought.

He felt relieved more than anything, though he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was because Allen hadn’t asked any more about the book he carried with him, or because Allen didn’t resent him for losing his temper.

Allen had all the reason in the world to be angry, and it was discomforting, in a way, how quickly Allen had accepted the situation as it was. But he had always been like that, he supposed; a dim memory of a day long since passed, shortly after they had returned from Noah’s Ark, came to mind. _When there’s something you can’t understand no matter how much you think about it, you can’t let yourself just brood over it forever._ It almost brought a smile to Lavi’s face, how Allen was still following that same mentality even now. It was a lie to hide behind, but a comforting one nonetheless, and he knew that better than most.

He shifted, feeling the corner of a book dig into his back through his bag, and winced.  It was a burden, something he wished he could forget about, bury in the ground and leave the earth to claim it. Though Allen had been scarily close to the mark, he hadn’t in fact written in his personal record for months, not since before _that night_. Endless empty pages, reminding him that he still had a duty to fulfil, no matter how much he wanted to pretend it didn’t exist; all he had done for months now was run away from everything that brought him pain, and he knew he couldn’t do it forever.

But it would do him no good to think about it, he knew, and as he left through the front door, dim morning sunshine warming his skin, he let out a deep sigh and pushed away his thoughts. Allen turned to face him, talking with a mouthful of bread, happiness showing clear as day on his face - food still did wonders for his mood, it seemed - and it brought a smile to Lavi’s face. He hoped that no matter what the days brought, Allen wouldn’t lose that positive streak he’d managed to keep alive all these years.

There were just some things neither of them could bear to face, not at that moment in time, and hiding behind a lie was all either of them could do, for now.


	4. Two's Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, it's update time again!! Thank you as always to everyone who left comments + kudos on the previous chapter, it's always appreciated!! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter, please leave a comment to let me know what you thought, and enjoy!!

The pale light of dawn became flecked with colour as the morning arose, rose pink and orange shades making the strengthening sunlight soft and hazy.

With a significantly heavier bag than when they had left, with the remnants of yesterday’s pie wrapped in cloth as well as a loaf of bread added to what they’d managed to steal the day before, Lavi and Allen set off down a dirt road between two fields of wheat, a weak autumn sun illuminating their way as the morning arose. A decent night’s rest had raised both their spirits, amiable conversation that had been all but lacking the last time Allen had been present giving some sense of normality to the day’s travels.

Of course, this normality was fleeting. After settling down at the side of a road to rest, finishing off the pie they had been given, the contented expression on Allen’s face suddenly shifted to one of disgust. Lavi watched, eyebrow raised, as his companion swallowed the mouthful of pie as if he’d been forced to eat dirt. Coming to the conclusion that either Neah had awoken, or Allen suddenly found something rather unpleasant in his food, Lavi made a judgment call and reached over to take the slice from the outstretched hand before him.

“Not a fan of baked goods?”

Neah shook his head, eyeing the pie in Lavi’s hand with a vehement expression. “How can you eat that shit? The texture’s disgusting.”

Lavi paused, shaking his head a little before wrapping up the remaining slices of pie and throwing an apple in Neah’s direction. The Noah caught it with his right hand, looking it over before taking a bite, evident relief showing in his expression.

Seeing Neah react in such a human manner was strangely comforting, giving a stark comparison to the impression Lavi had gained of him since he had first been informed about him. Neah was dangerous, harbouring a dark malevolence that left Lavi unable to feel at ease in his presence, but he was also a person beneath that and Lavi was slowly coming to learn who exactly ‘Neah Campbell’ was. He seemed similar to Road at times, showing a mischievous playfulness that bordered on sadism on occasion. He also reminded him of Tyki, with his complete disregard and persistent apathy towards certain situations.

Lavi also learned, rather quickly, that Neah could also be very, _very_ annoying. Despite any comfort he’d gained from seeing this more human side to him, Lavi couldn’t help but feel irritated as Neah took the other four apples from the bag and ate them in quick succession, turning to stick out his tongue before resuming his eating. Allen could be a brat on occasion, particularly if someone had annoyed him - or if Kanda was standing two feet away from him - but Neah was far, _far_ worse than his host. It was like dealing with a petulant stubborn child, so used to getting their own way that being told ‘no’ was equal to telling them to stop breathing.

Of course, Neah was far more dangerous than a spoiled little brat.

Toeing the line between avoiding physical injury at the hands of his companion, and keeping some level of control over him, was exhausting beyond belief. Whatever the good night’s rest had done for Lavi’s state of mind soon dissipated after Neah mentioned, yet again, the broken nose Lavi had inflicted upon him. The urge to give him a black eye or smack him into the nearest tree with his Innocence was sorely tempting, but Allen’s expression after Lavi had apologised - a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, a falsity that fooled no-one - stopped him from causing Neah any further injury.

Instead Lavi settled on ignoring him, focusing on keeping an eye out for enemies and walking as many miles as possible before stopping for the night. After hours of failed attempts to either make conversation or annoy his companion, Neah gave up and the two of them settled into a tense and uncomfortable silence as the day faded into evening.

By the time dusk grasped the world in its darkened claws, they found a place to shelter them from the cold grip of a cloudless autumn night, exhausted from a day of walking and ignoring each other’s presence. Already familiar with Lavi’s need to take first watch - whether it was out of habit or distrust, he didn’t care either way - Neah threw off his coat and positioned himself in the far corner of the damp stable that constituted their ‘shelter’. Lavi barely resisted the urge to comment on his companion’s grumpiness, the need to vent the frustration that had been gnawing away at him all day ever so slightly less than the need to sit down and rest. Shrugging off his bag and coat, he sat with his back against the wall, exhaling sharply before rubbing at his face with clumsy gestures.

Keeping up the cheerful act for Allen, both out of habit and worry for causing his friend even further stress, was almost less exhausting than the constant irritation that continued to build in Neah’s presence. He knew that the Noah was trying to get him to lose his temper, to give him any form of excuse to get rid of his pesky ‘companion’ and continue on his way without him as an added hindrance. Hurting him was out of the question, even if the desire to beat him black-and-blue was getting stronger by the day; he knew the look Allen gave him far too well - the resigned acceptance to being hurt by another, learned from those who used violence as their way of controlling others - and he refused to be the cause of it.

At least it would give him plenty of motivation to fight Akuma, or anyone else who decided to either take Allen and Neah with them or end their lives.

As that thought came to mind he felt his shoulders slump, eye fluttering shut, pure and utter weariness sinking its claws in deep. Both Neah and Allen’s questions - demanding why he was there, his reasons for helping them - came to the forefront, followed by a sickening uneasiness. How could he explain that he didn’t know? That coming across them was pure happenstance? That he had spent his days before finding them endlessly walking, purposeless and driven by the simple need to have a distraction, to ignore the whirling swarm of thoughts and emotions threatening to overwhelm him?

Was this what Bookman wanted? Was this what _he_ wanted? He had no answers, only the persistent feeling that he could not abandon the two of them. A quiet voice in the back of his mind questioned whether he truly wished to aid Neah as well as Allen, and all he could do was internally shrug, unknowing of even his own intentions. He annoyed Lavi beyond belief; Neah was stubborn and childish and took every opportunity to make an annoyance of himself. Lavi knew that he was doing it intentionally - at least for the most part - as a way to either get him to leave or resort to violence, giving the perfect excuse to use ‘self-defence’ to rid himself of the Bookman apprentice in his presence. But this knowledge did little to ease the tension eating away at him, nor the burning need to get Neah to stop either through a fight or some other method.

But people were never what they seemed, hiding behind a mask or defence of some kind to protect the person underneath. Lavi knew that he and Allen had their respective masks, hiding behind fake smiles and a cheerful countenance to protect what lay beneath. And so he couldn’t help but wonder if, behind the paranoia and need to test those in his company, there was more to Neah than he had first thought.

His question was somewhat answered later that night as dawn came creeping upon the world with its gentle light. Still refusing to swap with Neah and allow himself to sleep - he doubted he would ever trust him enough to do so - Lavi went through his usual nightly routine; ignoring his thoughts, his memories, fingers tapping repetitively as he counted under his breath. As the room began to brighten he noticed an ache at the centre of each hand, building until he had to break his repetitive movement to rub at his palms.

Ever since he had gained his evolved Innocence the marks had refused to heal; a persistent semi-open wound, throbbing and aching ever presently as the days passed by. Lavi had become accustomed to it, able to ignore the pain for the most part, but sometimes - particularly when memories of _that night_ strayed too close to the present - it was increasingly hard to ignore it.

He gave an audible hiss as his palms began to burn, fingers digging into skin to try and relieve the throbbing pain his Innocence was causing him. It took him a while to notice silver eyes peering back at him from the semi-darkness and he nearly flinched as surprise - and slight alarm - flooded through him. For a while Neah - or was it Allen? - said nothing, staring back at him with narrowed eyes. Lavi frowned, exhaustion evident in his expression, as the silence continued to stretch between him and his companion.

A quiet laugh, followed by words tinged with an emotion Lavi couldn’t name, broke the silence.

“It’s funny.”

Lavi tilted his head. “What is?”

“That for all the apparent faith you Exorcists have in your God, It still continues to hurt you.”

Lavi faltered before smiling, disbelief tinging his words as he replied.

“You think any of us believe in God? I’ve seen enough dying men to know It doesn’t exist.” Neah shot him a sceptical look and Lavi’s smile widened. He continued to speak as he raised his palms, stigmata facing the Noah before him. “This? It doesn’t prove God’s existence any more than you Noah do.”

Neah’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I meant by it, moron.” Neah growled and Lavi did little more than give a tired smile before lowering his hands, rubbing at his palms with a downward glance. “You guys are just as cursed as we are. We’re just being fucked over by different Gods.”

Silence befell them as Lavi became lost within memories of burning palms and bloodied battlefields. Neah watched his companion for a while, gaze fixed on the cross-like wounds on Lavi’s hands; they were the same ones he carried upon his forehead, like all his siblings, hidden from view until he fully awakened. He realised with some discomfort that despite the divide the Noah had established between themselves and the humans they fought against, they were not as different as they hoped to be.

_We’re just being fucked over by different Gods_. Lavi had no idea how true his words were, and Neah had to resist the urge to laugh, consumed by bitterness. Memories he wished to forget clutched at his heart - of days when that agonising ache upon his and his brother’s foreheads was too unbearable to handle, when they could do little more than run from their fate - and Neah found himself unable to discern any difference in the weary resignation on Lavi’s face from the one his brother had shown all those long years ago.

Neah looked away, hands clenched into fists, replacing all emotion felt with anger, with hatred; his Mana was gone and nostalgia would do little more than hinder him. He felt the desire to direct it at the person sat across from him, simply for reminding him of his brother in such a way, but the expression on Lavi’s face _bothered him_ and so as his gaze met his own, Neah scowled. Lavi tilted his head, confused, but his companion refused to offer any explanation. Neah returned to his previous position on the floor, turning so his back was faced to his companion. With a shrug Lavi resumed staring off into the encroaching dawn with a distant expression.

And unbeknown to him, Neah’s mask fell, if by just a little, to allow him just one small moment to think, to feel and be human, to remember the brother he had lost.

* * *

The morning proper arose a few hours after dawn gripped the world in its grasp. Lavi felt exhausted, the urge to sleep chased away by both the threat of the Noah lying nearby, and the memories and thoughts that refused to leave him be. As the room brightened he considered trying to sleep if only for a few minutes, but a quiet shuffling and groaning noise deterred him from giving in to his tiredness.

Hoping Allen would be the one to awaken, if only so Lavi could sleep at some point that day, he felt both disappointment and frustration flood through him as it became clear that Neah was still present. The prospect of enduring another day of ignoring and resisting the urge to punch his companion left Lavi with little motivation to get up from his perch on the floor, though he knew he had little choice. The persistent ache in the palm of each hand, exacerbated by hours of being pressed against and rubbed at, only added to the irritation rising up within him.

He stood with a heavy sigh, rubbing at his face tiredly and regretting how it only furthered the pain he felt in his hands. Picking up his bag and leaving the dilapidated hut that had been their shelter for the night, Lavi stepped outside without a word, wincing as the bright light of the morning sun flooded his vision. Feeling a headache arise behind his temples, it took all of his restraint to resist voicing his irritation as a piercing screeching noise - caused by Neah shutting the hut’s door as he exited the building - further aggravated the throbbing in his head and hands.

Before Neah could consider speaking, Lavi inhaled and exhaled sharply before heading forward, uncaring if Neah followed him or not, knowing far too well that the only way the day would pass would be through some form of progress. He focused his thoughts on the path they were taking, the slow ambling route they were taking through France’s countryside that was, he hoped, keeping them from being discovered by their pursuers. They had made their way slowly towards Roanne, intending to reach Lons-le-Saunier before crossing the Franco-German border and using Iron Hammer to head further north. It had been slow going, the combination of fighting Akuma, and avoiding major cities for fear of being discovered by agents of the Order and Noah family, hindering whatever progress they could have made without these limitations. Lavi knew they could travel faster if they used his Innocence but he had been afraid to use it too often, both out of fear of making them an easy target for Akuma and being spotted by those wishing to capture the 14th.

Travelling on foot was safer for the meantime, even if it was slow and exhausting.

As the day pressed on Lavi almost didn’t notice how strangely quiet Neah had been. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left their nightly shelter, and Lavi was too tired to find out the reason why. Midday passed them by, clouds beginning to obscure the light of the sun as they settled down to eat. It was a miserable lunch, constituting semi-stale bread and apples close to going soft, but Neah’s usual complaints about their food resources were missing, instead eating a few apples with a slight grimace in silence. Again, both exhaustion and a steadily worsening headache drove all desire to ask his companion about his change in behaviour from Lavi’s mind.

Night befell the world, light diminishing as they made their way through open fields. An abandoned stable became their shelter for the night, devoid of any sign of its previous purpose apart from a few lone rusted horseshoes. Lavi settled against a wall opposite the door with a sigh, rubbing at his face tiredly. Neah appeared to consider speaking before he shook his head, deciding to say nothing as he made himself comfortable on the floor.

Silence settled itself upon them as the hours trickled by. Lavi dug his nails into various parts of his arms to keep himself awake, leaving indentations and broken skin in their place. As early morning hit he felt his eye begin to flutter shut, body so heavy he could scarcely move. Though fear and years of training usually kept him from succumbing, he couldn’t keep himself awake any longer, too exhausted to push his body any further. However, unbroken sleep was something he had not experienced in many long weeks, dark crawling things eager to cast his mind into painful memory.

Nightmares of blood pooling underneath him, the snapping of bones, the sound of his own muffled cries for help, threw him into wakefulness so often he felt no better for whatever rest he had managed to get.

It was only when the room began to brighten at dawn’s touch that Lavi noticed Neah had moved and was asleep beside him, propped awkwardly against the wall to his right. Too exhausted to question it Lavi rubbed at his face before getting up to walk around, trying to bring his tired limbs back into resigned activity. When Neah woke up an hour or so later he let his companion awaken properly before asking him why he’d moved to sleep beside him. _Force of habit_ was the answer he was given after hours of bugging Neah for a reply, leaving him more confused than he had been beforehand.

Unbeknown to Lavi, as they walked in silence that day, memories of frightened sobs and cries for mercy - _please don’t let it take me, Neah, please I’m begging you_ \- left his companion on edge and consumed by bitterness.

Endless hours passed in a monotonous fashion, fields and patches of trees blurring into an infinite loop of greenery and farmland; a world devoid of any other living thing but the two of them. But, as the sun began to sink behind faraway hilltops, the whir of cogs and a sharp intake of breath from Neah signified approaching Akuma. Head and hands throbbing, limbs heavy from nightmare-ridden sleep, Lavi activated his Innocence with a pained hiss and hoped the fight would be easy.

It wasn’t.

A lone Level Four and three Level Threes were their main opponents, accompanied by a few Level Ones that lingered in the background. Lavi dealt with the Level Ones first with a Fire Seal, a snake of flames devouring them in an instant. The other Akuma had swiftly made their way towards Neah, eager to take the traitorous Noah back to his family; whether he was alive or dead when they brought him back was no concern of theirs. Increasing his hammer’s size Lavi knocked them out of the way, quickly summoning an Earth Seal to trap them in rocky fists. It didn’t take long for them to escape and the situation soon descended into a chaos of bullets and fire, clods of earth falling to the ground as hammer met both earth and machine. Two Level Threes were taken out by their own dark matter, an outstretched hand ensnaring the Akuma that dared to attack one of their masters, traitor or not. The last Level Three fell after colliding with Lavi’s hammer one too many times, leaving just the Level Four to deal with.

“Two on one is nothing, let’s end this quickly.”

Lavi regretted his words near-instantly as a quiet curse to his right and the thud of bullets hitting the ground signified more Akuma approaching. Gritting his teeth, wincing as the marks on the palm of each hand throbbed in time to the pain behind his temples, Lavi left the other Akuma to Neah and focused his attention on the Level Four before him. It grinned down at him, wings outstretched, eager to dispose of this human annoyance and claim the credit for bringing the 14th back to the Noah family; it would rather die at the hands of this Exorcist than return to _that person_ empty-handed.

A single Level Four was a challenge but not a threat; at least that would’ve been the case if Lavi had slept properly in the past few days. His movements were sluggish, eye half-lidded as his exhaustion worsened with each attack. All it took was one wrong move for Lavi to be thrown backwards into a tree _hard_ , winded and dazed as he fell to the ground. Wheezing, clutching at his chest, as his vision cleared he saw the Level Four make its way to Neah who had his back turned towards his opponent, distracted by what was ahead of him.

Panic gripped hold of Lavi and without thinking he brandished his Innocence and extended it forward, throwing himself between the Noah and the Level Four as it fired a bullet. He used all the momentum his sudden movement had given him to change its course, hands slashed open by the bullet’s path. It took a moment to register the second bullet that ripped through the side of his abdomen, to notice the black stars slowly appearing on his skin.

His vision and hearing dulled, the sounds of the battle and someone’s voice dimming in comparison to the violent thudding of his heart. Lavi knew he had mere seconds to save himself from crumbling into dust. But his Innocence reacted almost intuitively, twisting itself out of shape to enter the stigmata on each hand. His blood _burned_ \- a memory, of splitting palms and angered voices and a hand outstretched over his chest - and with a rush of feeling from the tips of his fingers to the core of his being he felt the virus spreading from his pierced abdomen diminish.

Slowly the world regained its focus, and as the sight of Neah destroying the Level Four came into view Lavi brought himself to his feet, shakily. Remnants of machines - what was once human, now consumed by tragedy - littered the ground, scorch marks from bullets and Innocence leaving black stains on what was once green and growing.

Silence befell the battlefield; a momentary peace. Lavi gripped at his side so tightly his knuckles were white from the strain, chest heaving, and he dimly noticed Neah walking towards him with an infuriated expression, speaking words he couldn’t hear.

Before he could react a fist met his face and all descended into darkness.

He awoke to the sound of wood crackling, the smell of smoke - tobacco and pipes and burning bodies - and a stinging pain in his abdomen and hands, as well as a throbbing ache around his jaw. Sitting up with a groan, Lavi gripped at his side with a wince before speaking, voice hoarse.

“Where…”

Silence; he was alone. Lavi knew that Neah - or was it Allen? - would not be far, since the fire appeared to have been recently rekindled, but where was he? Taking a moment to observe his surroundings - a wooded clearing, not far from nearby fields - Lavi sighed before moving closer to the fire, hands outstretched.

It was then that he noticed his hands were bandaged.

Lavi lowered his hands and looked down, touching the fabric with a frown. The marks his Innocence had left barely ached, at least in comparison to the burning cuts across his palms and the pain in his side - which was also bandaged, he noted. He paused before he felt both confusion and curiosity rise within him, thoughts on _who_ exactly bandaged him up racing through his mind.

Approaching footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and as a cold apathetic glance - and was that a tinge of embarrassment too? - met his own, he felt his lips tilt into an incredulous smile. Before he could speak an apple was thrown at his head with enough force to crack it open slightly before it fell into his lap. Hissing with pain, clutching at his forehead, Lavi glared at his companion.

“What was that for?”

Neah did not reply, dropping apples into Lavi’s duffel bag before sitting with his back turned to him. It reminded Lavi of a petulant child unwilling to admit they had been caught red-handed, and he couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself. Neah turned to face him with a scowl.

“What’re you laughing about?”

Lavi grinned. “Oh nothing, just wondering how long you’ve been pretending you hate my guts.”

Neah faltered before standing, silver eyes afire with anger, stepping forward to grip the front of Lavi’s shirt with a snarl.

“I’ve not been _pretending_ to do anything, Bookman.”

Lavi raised an eyebrow. “So why didn’t you leave me to die, or at least leave me behind so you can go take over the world or whatever it is you want to do?”

“I should be asking you the same fucking question!”

“Which question? Why I didn’t leave you to die or take over the world?”

Neah groaned before shaking Lavi slightly. “Not that you fucking idiot. Why did you do it?”

Lavi paused before giving an innocent smile. “Do what?”

“Don’t play dumb, so help me Bookman I’ll -”

“Oi.” Neah glared down at him and Lavi met his gaze with a firm expression. “If you mean taking a bullet for you, don’t let it get to your head. Doesn’t mean I’m suddenly gonna be kissin’ your ass or anythin’ now.”

Neah faltered, confusion entering his expression. Lavi blinked before shaking his head a little.

“Listen. Don’t get me wrong you’re a pain in my ass and this world would be a better place if you’d never risen from the grave.” Neah gritted his teeth, infuriated. “But I don’t exactly wanna let you get yourself killed since Allen kinda needs this body too. Akuma bullets are no big deal for him since he can use Crown Clown to purify the virus. But you probably can’t use it to purify yourself so dark matter’ll still fuck you up won’t it?”

Incredulous laughter bubbled up within Neah’s throat, thoughts clamouring in his mind - _is this a trick, is this to manipulate me, why did he_ \- gaze fixed on Lavi’s lone eye, trying to figure out if there was any ill intent within it. After a moment of silence he let go of Lavi’s shirt, turning away before whirling back to hit him. Before Lavi could speak he pointed in his direction, eyes narrowed.

“You’re scary!”

And, without another word, Neah turned and walked away, making himself comfortable by the fire with his back turned to his companion. Lavi took a moment before rubbing at the side of his face, voice quiet as he muttered under his breath.

“And I thought _I_ was bad with this kind of thing.”

Neah hissed. “ _Shut up_.”

Lavi shrugged and decided to say nothing more, falling to lie on his back and rub the bandages wrapped around his middle with a thoughtful gaze. Had he thrown himself in the way of the Akuma’s bullets to save Neah? Was it simply because he reacted on instinct, believing in the heat of battle that it was _Allen_ he was fighting beside? He had quickly come to differentiate between them, picking up on the subtleties that told him who was in control of the body they shared. However, he still found himself slipping up on occasion, found himself seeing a familiar face and forgetting every now and then that it would never be ‘just Allen’ ever again. Perhaps he simply wanted to preserve the body that the two of them shared, perhaps he was not quite as used to Neah’s presence as he thought. But there was also the possibility that despite how irritating, exhausting and dangerous his newfound companion was, he could not so easily dismiss the idea that Neah was more than a necessary annoyance to him.

He was not a friend; no, such a thought was ludicrous. But he was also not an enemy either, nor someone that he felt nothing but apathy for. The Noah was interesting, in his own way. His past, his role in the war, his ties to the Bookman Clan and all that had happened before Lavi had been born; he wanted to know more about him and his motives, about the Third Side. But perhaps it was simpler than that. Perhaps it was simply the knowledge that Neah was human beyond all that mystery, beyond the mask and countenance he wore like armour. Neah was a complication; Lavi knew that. If it had just been Allen, running from Akuma and God knows what else, Lavi would have helped him. Would Lavi have helped Neah if it had just been him? Would he have helped someone using Allen’s body for his own means? Would it be out of the vain hope that his friend would return or would he have genuinely wished to help the 14th? He didn’t know.

It had been so easy before, to lump every human being he had ever met together into the same endless mass of hateful, destructive beings that disgusted him more than words could ever express. Counting corpses of men who died for reasons so petty he questioned why they willingly died for such a cause, listening to countless monarchs and politicians speak of conquest and riches and power as if everything was a game; he had long since made up his mind that humanity was not worth saving.

But since joining the Black Order his beliefs had changed ever so slowly, even beyond his own acknowledgment and understanding. Before he had even realised it, he had been casting aside the jaded Bookman apprentice and gaining something he thought he had lost; his humanity. And now it was nearly impossible to disregard those that he met, to feel no sympathy towards them and their plights. A boy caged by a destiny he had never agreed to, a man so exhausted by this endless war that he wanted nothing more than for it to end; neither Allen nor Neah were people he could ignore, people he could cast aside and walk away from.

They were both determined to stick to their chosen path, even if it spelled the destruction of either themselves or the people around them, and he could understand that much.

Lavi looked over at his companion, at silver hair and a tattered coat, at someone who may look like Allen but did not _feel_ like Allen. The usual dark malevolence that Neah held was there, but Lavi was starting to see behind the mask. The question remained as to _why_ Neah had not left him to die, had decided to not only bring Lavi’s unconscious body to safety but treat his wounds. He briefly imagined Neah stating it was so he would still have the upper hand, that Lavi now owed _him_ despite Lavi having saved him from being riddled with bullets, and smiled to himself.

Either that or it was some form of debt to Bookman, which made the smile drop from Lavi’s features.

Lavi turned to face away from the fire, wide-eyed, refusing to get lost in a spiral of darkened thoughts. Praying to whichever gods would listen for dreamless sleep, Lavi closed his eye and breathed out heavily, using his training to calm his mind, soothe his thoughts. A vivid image formed in his mind of a darkened room and the smell of tobacco smoke, quiet words speaking of torture and duty and the protection of secrets; he shoved it away as quickly as it had arisen with a wince.

It was hard to gauge how long he had fought off his thoughts before managing to sleep, eventually too exhausted to spiral further into pained memory. Snapshots of moments from the past filtered into what would otherwise have been blissful nightmare-free rest, pulling Lavi back from sleep with a jolt before he could sink back into it once more.

While he attempted to rest Neah sat and stared into the darkness, too lost in thought to feel tempted to sleep himself. Lavi’s words had gotten under his skin, something akin to trust flickering in his expression, leaving Neah uncomfortable and paranoid. Whereas his usual response would be delight at having yet more leverage over his companion, he instead felt ill at ease with what had transpired over the past few hours.

Despite what Lavi seemed to think, he had not bandaged his wounds out of any sense of goodwill. Although he knew it was not enough for Lavi to die from it - even if it eventually became infected - the thought of having to deal with Lavi’s complaints, and the risk of being overwhelmed in their next encounter with Akuma, was the only reason he decided to bandage his companion’s wounds; he ignored the quiet voice in his head that questioned whether force of habit from _back then_ had anything to do with it.

But that was not what was troubling him. He felt certain in his motives for doing what he had done, but Lavi taking a bullet for him was another thing entirely.

He knew enough about the Bookman Clan to know that their lives were always paramount over that of whom they were recording, so for a Bookman to put himself in harm’s way to protect him, of all people, left a bitter taste in Neah’s mouth. Mistrust crept in, thoughts of lies and deceit crawling their way to the forefront of his mind until his fingers were twitching, the urge to rid himself of his companion growing with each passing second.

He knew, rationally, that Lavi was in all likelihood either telling the truth about protecting the body Neah shared with his host, or his care for Allen had overridden any sense of duty towards Bookman Code. It was obvious that Lavi was a failure of an apprentice; Neah knew this. It was hardly surprising that he would succumb to such things as emotion and instinct over rationale and duty, especially in the heat of battle. But it had surprised him regardless, especially since Bookman had - as far as he knew - kept this boy as his apprentice despite his failure to abide by the code they lived by. Had Bookman really ordered Lavi to find him? Why did he put his trust in his apprentice to do what he had asked if he was so easily swayed by emotion?

The thought that there was a chance Lavi hadn’t really been ordered by Bookman grew stronger by the minute, and he would not give him the time to reveal his reasons why.

Neah stood and took a step, footfalls light against the leaf-ridden ground beneath him, silver eyes wide and focused intently on red hair, shoulders rising and falling slowly, the flicker of shadows upon his back. Hands reached forward, fingers grasping at the fabric around Lavi’s throat. If anyone had been around to see it, the expression he wore upon his face at that moment - unbridled murderous intent and wide eyes - would have caused any who knew Allen to feel horrified. Neah prepared to increase the strength of his grip, eager to cut off Lavi’s air supply and leave him half-asleep and gasping for breath, but he found himself unable to do so.

The memory of black stars appearing on skin, the knowledge that his plans would have gone completely awry if not for that simple act of being protected, the frustration - and _fear_ \- of his host’s body destroying him, left him frozen in place. He felt a glimmer of a presence, the quietest of words, urging him not to hurt the person lying unaware beneath him, as well as a feeling he did not want; _guilt_. He tried to tighten his grip on Lavi’s throat, paranoia and distrust briefly overriding every other thing he felt, but a rising feeling of discomfort built inside of him until he had to pull away, disgusted with himself. With a muttered curse he walked away, hands clenched into fists, before sitting and burying his head in his hands.

_None_ of this was meant to have happened. He was meant to have taken over his host long before now, to have had Cross guide and protect him through his awakening until he was able to fulfil his goal of finding and eradicating the Mana that was not his. To be stuck in a body that was refusing to accept him, to have spent so much time alone and unable to properly defend himself, to be forced to rely on others to assist him when he could not trust anyone but himself and a man that had dropped off the face of the Earth; it was almost too much to bear.

But he knew he had no choice but to keep Lavi around until he fully awakened. He could not trust him, not until he knew the truth about his reasons for being there, and he knew he would have to be extremely wary of him in the meantime, but his chances of accomplishing what he needed would only get slimmer if he went back to being alone.

Eventually he would know how Lavi had found him on that stormy night. Eventually he would know his reasons for being there. All it would take was a matter of time and patience.


	5. Open or Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, time for another update!! Thank you as always to everyone who commented and/or left kudos on the previous chapter, it means a lot to me!! I hope you enjoy reading, and let me know what you think!!
> 
> Content warning: mentions of alcohol, emetophobia warning

Dawn cast its presence upon the world, daylight filtering through leaves and casting a speckled array of light and shadow upon the ground.

Awoken by the world brightening around him, Lavi stirred into wakefulness with a groan. He had barely managed to get more than a few hours of broken sleep, disturbed by memory and a feeling of fear at one point while he slept, but it was better than nothing. His whole body _ached_ from his jaw to his forehead, the burning sensation of his injuries on his hands and abdomen only adding to the discomfort he felt. The prospect of having to get up, never mind walk endless miles until it was safe to take shelter for the night, caused Lavi to groan and bury his head in his hands. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, though he knew with bitter disappointment that the kind of sleep he needed was near-permanently out of reach.

Partly out of sudden paranoia, partly to procrastinate sitting up, Lavi turned his head to see if Neah had remained at his spot by the fire. He noticed with a mixture of both amusement and irritation that his companion had fallen asleep, mostly obscured by the tattered coat he was using as a makeshift blanket. Finally motivated to move, Lavi forced himself to sit up, teeth gritted as a sharp pain shot through his side. With a wince he got to his feet and stumbled forwards, taking a moment to find a pointed stick from the ground and poke the person at his feet with it.

“Oi.” No response. Lavi scowled and poked harder. “ _Oi_.”

A quiet groan filtered through the bundle of fabric and messy hair, hands reaching for the coat with clumsy gestures before a bleary silver-eyed gaze met Lavi’s own.

“ _What?_ ”

The sharp tone and seething glare thrown his way confirmed that Neah was still present. Lavi sighed, making no attempt to hide his disappointment, before prodding his companion’s forehead.

“Do you know what keeping watch even means dumbass? What if we’d been attacked?”

Neah reached forward and snapped the stick with an expression that made Lavi take a few steps backwards - breaking bones, blood pooling beneath him - gripped by a sickening and intense feeling of panic.

“Be glad I didn’t leave you for dead you piece of shit. Now back the fuck off.”

Lavi faltered, forcing himself to ignore the memories that had just passed before his vision, hands trembling, before sighing, irritation showing in his expression. The urge to complain about Neah using what had happened the day before as a way of having the upper hand completely dissipated as he realised just how angry the Noah before him actually was. Knowing that he would have to tread extremely carefully to avoid being mortally injured, Lavi turned away to pull on his coat with awkward movements and prepare to leave, making sure the campfire had definitely died out before grabbing his bag. Neah appeared to make no indication of attempting to leave, but before Lavi could point it out he was nearly left behind as his companion trudged off with a fast pace deeper into the trees, fists clenched and shoulders hunched.

Walking in tense silence became commonplace as day passed into night, Neah infuriated with both himself and his companion, Lavi too injured and exhausted to do anything more than walk and keep heading forwards. Gripped by distrust, a strange kind of standoff resulted when they found shelter for the night, neither wishing to lie down and sleep while the other watched over them. Eventually Lavi caved in, more due to his injuries than anything else, and it did little to ease the building anger inside of Neah that Lavi seemed to trust him enough to forsake his usual habit of taking first watch. After hours of being trapped by his own thoughts, Neah was less than forgiving when he awoke Lavi a few hours after midnight, kicking him into wakefulness before lying down on the opposite side of the room, Lavi’s irritated remarks falling upon deaf ears.

As dawn arose, the structure of the day before repeated itself - walking in silence, discomfort and resigned acceptance towards each other’s presence filtering into every interaction - until both Neah and Lavi wished for _anything_ to break the dreary cycle they’d become stuck within. As day passed into night once more and the need for shelter arose, the discovery of an abandoned house - the first they’d seen for miles - gave them something to focus on.

Lavi explored the garden outside before entering through a broken kitchen door, nosing through cupboards with disappointment at the lack of food. The rest of the ground floor was just as desolate and empty, but it would at least provide them some shelter for the night. A sudden cry of delight emanated from below - the cellar which Neah had gone to check - and with building confusion Lavi headed down the dilapidated stairs into semi-darkness, silver hair and the dim glow of a candle coming into view.

“You, uh, alright over there?”

For a moment Neah did not reply but, with an expression so at odds with the anger Lavi had become accustomed to that it was hard not to laugh, he eventually turned to reveal a box full of bottles in a variety of colours and sizes. Stepping forward, curiosity mounting, Lavi swiftly understood his companion’s delight as he realised it was a box full of _alcohol_. Spirits, beer, wine; it was a treasure trove, to those who enjoyed such things. Lavi enjoyed drinking on occasion, though after a few slip-ups with both pretty barmaids _and_ pretty barmen he stopped allowing himself the chance to do so, and it was clear Neah was pleased with his find, carefully taking out bottles and placing them on the floor with an appreciative hum.

Eventually he appeared to have separated the contents of the box into two groups, and Lavi knew one of the piles of alcohol likely consisted of things Neah did not want to drink, which meant he would not have to deal with him sober. Delighted by the prospect, Lavi crouched down and eyed the two evident piles with a contemplative gaze before turning to Neah with a grin.

“So let me guess you’re a… wine kind of guy?”

Neah turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Why do you say that like it’s an insult?” Lavi laughed in reply and Neah scowled at him before taking off his coat and folding it up before placing bottles from one pile onto it. “And the answer’s no, wine’s for posh bastards like Marian.”

Lavi shrugged before picking up the bottles from the other pile, pleased that he’d been left with what seemed to be mostly wine and whisky.

“Me, I prefer spirits more than anythin’. Wouldn’t usually go for…” he paused before reading the label on one bottle with a snort “… an 1820 rosé called Working Girl Belle, but I don’t really care.”

Neah stood and shot him a look before making his way upstairs. Lavi soon caught up with him, but before he could attempt to head in the same direction as his companion he was met with a vehement expression.

“Go drink alone, I don’t wanna put up with you sober, never mind drunk.”

Lavi pulled a face. “But drinkin’ alone is boring, don’t be such an asshole. Plus I’ll have you know I’m a delightful drunk.”

“I don’t care how _delightful_ you think you are Bookma- hey where do you think you’re going?”

Lavi walked past Neah, ignoring him as the depressing image of drinking alone came to mind. Refusing to ruin his night - and reasonably good mood - with such a thought he made himself at home on the kitchen floor, back resting against the wall. Neah appeared to consider going elsewhere before sighing and settling down across the room, tucked between two wooden counters.

Taking a moment to filter through the bottles he’d taken with him, Lavi almost didn’t notice that Neah had started chugging down a bottle as if his life depended on it. After he gave an audible sigh that seemed to be both out of relief and a need to breathe, Lavi shot him a look.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you use alcohol to cope, but still, maybe slow it down over there?”

Neah glared at him before throwing the bottle in his direction. It smashed a few feet away from Lavi, much to his relief, and Lavi simply shrugged before picking a whisky to start with. Deciding to enjoy his drink slowly he took a small swig, eye fluttering closed as comforting warmth spread through his chest. He breathed out slowly, lips pulling up into a smile.

“Man, I needed this right now.”

Neah, who had already started on his second bottle, gave a hum of agreement. He downed the rest of its contents, uncaring of what it even was, hell-bent on getting rid of months of persistent frustration and anger. As he placed the now-empty bottle down beside him, and took several minutes to appreciate the warmth spreading through him, he gave a surprised noise as the room started to swim uncomfortably.

Lavi raised an eyebrow. “You okay over there?”

Neah blinked before squinting over at his companion, stumbling over his words. “Wh-what’s this stupid kid’s tolerance of alcohol?”

Lavi paused before giving him a huge grin. “He doesn’t drink. Says it reminds him too much of Cross. Also because he’s a lethal drunk, apparently.”

Neah buried his head in his hands with an audible whine, speaking as if to himself alone. “I haven’t got drunk since before I died, can’t I just enjoy this without this bullshit happening?”

Lavi chuckled before taking another gulp of his drink, amused by his companion’s pain. “So you’re a whiny drunk, gotcha.”

Neah looked up and pointed a finger at a spot a feet or so away from Lavi, speech slurred. “ _Shut up_! I wouldn’t need to do this if you hadn’t been such a fucking pain in my ass.”

Lavi raised an eyebrow. “I’m a pain in _your_ ass? Surely both you and Allen have the same ass?”

Neah groaned, head falling back to hit the wall behind him. “ _Shut up_.”

They lapsed into silence, Lavi slowly getting through his bottle with a contented expression, Neah looking down at his feet with an expression of resound disappointment. It was a strange atmosphere, the one that had descended upon them; they had both been so at odds with each other since they had first met, particularly since Lavi had saved Neah only days prior, and yet they were able to sit in relatively peaceful silence, content enough with each other’s company to do so.

Lavi was not fond of Neah, but he’d had far worse drinking partners during his years of travelling with Bookman, and he knew that Neah was just as fed up as he was with the situation they were in. After finishing his bottle of whisky and cracking open another bottle he moved closer towards Neah with quiet shuffling noises. When his companion appeared not to react to his presence he extended his leg forward and poked the other with his foot, earning a slightly dazed glare thrown his way.

“What?”

“You look miserable, and I have the answer to that problem.” Neah raised a questioning eyebrow and Lavi simply grinned and shook his second bottle of whisky in response before speaking. “Shots solve all problems.”

Neah paused before shrugging, reaching for the bottle and taking a swig with a resigned expression. He pulled a face when he gave the bottle back, and Lavi couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, it’s better than that horse piss you’re drinkin’.”

Neah huffed. “I don’t care. If beer does its job then it’s fine in my books.”

Silence befell them, and as the minutes passed they wordlessly passed the bottle between them. Lavi could hold his liquor well, though getting through most of two bottles of whisky was bringing him close to his limit, but Neah was in a state that Allen would never forgive him for; with his cheeks flushed and his eyes half-lidded he seemed so different compared to his usual demeanour.

Neah had not let his guard down despite that, Lavi knew, but it seemed like a good opportunity to try and figure out more about his companion and, hopefully, find a way to make travelling with him more bearable.

“So…” Lavi’s voice was quiet, but Neah seemed to hear him regardless, silver eyes hazily focusing on him. “What’s the thing you miss most about your old life?”

Neah raised an eyebrow.  “You think just cause I’m drunk I’m gonna play 20 questions with you?”

Lavi gave a winning smile. “It’s worth a shot isn’t it?”

“Why do you even care?”

“I’m tispy and bored, it’s better than sittin’ here in silence isn’t it?”

Neah took a moment to mull it over before sighing, reaching for a nearby bottle and opening it before speaking.

“Being able to handle more than a few bottles of beer, definitely.” Lavi snorted and received a foot in his stomach in reply. “And having better company than your annoying ass.”

Lavi paused to wheeze for breath. “Oh? There were people who actually wanted to put up with you?”

Neah kicked him again with a scowl. “ _Oi_.”

Lavi coughed and held his stomach before speaking. “So, who were they then?”

Resounding silence as Neah shot Lavi a pointed look. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for that, Bookman.”

Lavi gave a huff before reaching for a bottle of wine and attempting to open it. Glaring down at the cork stopper, he tried to pull it out with his teeth and failed. After a few minutes of having to watch Lavi practically eat the stopper, Neah made a noise of discontent and snatched the bottle from him.

“Oi that’s mine, plus you said you don’t like wine any… way...”

Lavi faltered when he saw Neah use the nails on his left hand to pull the stopper out. Neah handed the bottle back to him and scowled when he noticed Lavi’s confused expression.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothin’ really. Just didn’t know you were okay even using that thing.”

When Neah realised Lavi was referring to the Innocence that made up his left arm he pulled a disgusted expression.

“I wish I didn’t have to be, but winners can’t be choosers.”

Lavi snorted. “It’s beggars can’t be choosers, dumbass. Plus, I wouldn’t call Mr. I Came Back From The Dead Only To Be Trapped With A Stubborn Sixteen Year Old a winner anyway.”

“Do you want me to kick you again?” Lavi shook his head and Neah gave a satisfied smile before resting his head against a counter and huffing. “I don’t get why he’s so fucking attached to it anyway. You’d think he’d hate the damn thing.”

Lavi took a moment to think it over before smiling gently. “I think it’s more that the ‘sprout needs it to do what he really wants to do, ya know? If it’ll help him with that he’ll do whatever’s needed.”

“And what’s that?”

“Hm?”

“What does he need this thing for?”

“To keep his promise to Mana, duh.” Neah froze, eyes widening. Lavi appeared not to notice, taking a deep gulp from his bottle before sighing and continuing. “He’s determined to save as many Akuma as he can to make up for turnin’ Mana into one. It’s kinda sad really.”

“And what did he promise him?”

Neah’s voice had gone awfully quiet, laced with a serious undertone that sobered Lavi up slightly. He sat up straighter, watching Neah with a careful gaze before speaking.

“ _Don’t stop, keep walking_. Or somethin’ like that. That’s the promise he made, and he’ll do whatever he can to keep it.”

Neah didn’t react for a long time, eyes wide, lost in memory. His own words, his own promise to Mana all those long years ago, passed on to the person who became his host, the person who was resisting him with every ounce of strength he had; the irony of it all made him laugh. After being shot a quizzical look, Neah spoke, almost more to himself than anyone else.

“What a fucked up cycle of bullshit the three of us ended up in, huh.”

Lavi tilted his head, confused. “Huh?”

Neah refused to speak, downing the rest of his bottle before resting his head against the wall behind him, eyes closed. Knowing he was no longer going to get any answers from him, Lavi resigned himself to drinking in silence. Minutes trickled by, feeling more like arduous hours, the endless quiet broken only by the sound of breathing, the occasional clink of glass. Eventually it became too much to bear and Lavi let out a frustrated whine, placing his now-empty bottle on the floor with more force than was needed.

“Now I jus’ feel depressed. Why did we decide to do this again?”

Neah sighed, giving a mumbled reply. “Because we both hate being stuck here with each other?”

Lavi paused before shrugging. “I guess. If you let go of the whole paranoid asshole act, I think we’d get along jus’ fine ya know.”

Neah tiredly extended his leg out to kick Lavi and missed, eyes still closed, expression set into one of drunken exhaustion.

“And if you just let me take over this stupid brat and leave I’d at least feel less like I wanna kill you.”

“Hey, don’t blame me for Allen gettin’ in your way. It’s not my fault.”

“It probably is. Your stupid presence is probably giving him hope or some bullshit like that.”

Lavi snorted. “Nah, Allen’s got that hope thing covered just fine on his own. Plus -” he paused to half-heartedly kick Neah’s side “- I found you covered in mud, half-starving, and too exhausted to do anythin’. You didn’t and still don’t have your shit together.”

Neah attempted to kick him in reply. “Shut up.”

“Not gonna.”

“Fuck you.”

Lavi huffed. “You should be grateful I didn’t leave ya there to die, you little shit.”

“And _you_ should be grateful I haven’t killed you yet for lying about why you’re here.”

Lavi fell silent, uncomfortable under the sudden serious gaze of his companion. He reached for another bottle and downed half of its contents, trying to ignore the unanswered question he was inadvertently given. Neah leant forward and smiled, speaking in a mocking tone.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you use alcohol to cope but -”

Lavi kicked him before he could finish with a scowl. “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, ya know that?”

Neah gave a winning smile in reply and Lavi made a noise of disgust, downing the rest of his bottle before casting it aside. He buried his head in his hands with a heavy sigh.

“I can’t tell if I’m too drunk or not drunk enough to deal with this righ’ now.”

Neah scowled over at him. “How am I meant to know?”

Lavi whined. “Shut up. Just shut up, okay? I don’ know why you’re here either, so we’re even.”

“I haven’t lied about why I’m here. I just haven’t told you.” Lavi gave Neah an incredulous look and all he did was smile over at him. “Plus, what’s the worst thing that’ll happen if I betray you? That old man will be pissed at me?”

Lavi’s expression darkened as he muttered something almost too quiet to hear.

“Who fuckin’ knows, I sure don’t.”

Neah paused before leaning forward with a pleased grin. “Wow, you really have problems with him don’t you?”

Lavi froze and for a brief moment Neah wondered if he was going to hurt him, but instead he was faced with a mocking smile and cold spiteful anger.

“And _you_ have big brother issues, so unless you want me to start mentioning Mana every five fucking seconds, why don’t you _shut up_.”

It took a moment for Neah to register what had been said, and all Lavi did was drink from his bottle with his eye fixed on Neah’s own, gaze full of spite. It was as if he’d become a different person, if but for a moment, and it made Neah feel uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t name. The urge to cause severe injury to his companion was mounting with each second, but he knew that it would only be returned to him. The thought of getting into a fight with Lavi was pleasing on the one hand, on the other hand he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Instead, Neah gritted his teeth and looked away.

“Touché.”

Silence befell them, and as the minutes passed them by, the initial relief and comfort the alcohol had given them was replaced with anger and a discomforting feeling that sat at the bottom of their stomachs. Lavi realised, rather bitterly, that the main reason he disliked Neah’s company was his insistent need to piss him off. He was playful and annoying and aggressive, but he could handle that as long as it wasn’t being directed at him 24/7 for the pure purpose of getting him to lose his self-control. Whether it was due to paranoia and an extreme lack of trust, or some other hidden reason, Lavi still couldn’t understand why Neah so resolutely wanted to shun the help he was being offered.

Though how much of his resentment was from his need to have some sense of purpose, Lavi didn’t know, and didn’t _want_ to know.

A part of him felt alarmed at the thought that his main reasons for disliking his companion had so little to do with the fact that he was sharing Allen’s body, that Allen might disappear because of him. A deep pervasive guilt wormed its way into the forefront of his mind until he felt sickened by it, but he knew, even if it was just a vain attempt at reassuring himself, that he was more used to the life Allen and Neah were leading than most.

The sudden idea to tell the both of them this fact arose within him, as well as the realisation that perhaps most of Neah’s actions were fuelled by frustration more than anything else, spurring him on to turn to his companion and speak as soberly as he could manage.

“Ya know, I get why you feel so shit about things right now. If you stop pissin’ me off so much I could probably…”

He faltered as he looked over and saw that Neah had fallen asleep, head propped at an awkward angle between the wall and a nearby counter. Sighing heavily, Lavi leant his head back against the wall behind him and scowled up at the ceiling. Maybe, in the morning, he could figure out a way to make things easier not just for himself but for the two people beside him, even if one of them perhaps didn’t entirely deserve his help.

Even if it was just to give him a distraction and futile purpose more than anything else.

* * *

Allen noticed two things when he awoke to timid morning sunlight. One, his head had obviously been cracked open several times considering how much it hurt. Two, he was going to violently throw up. Groaning, he pushed himself upright using the counter beside him and managed to crawl forward towards a nearby corner before emptying the contents of his stomach.

After it was over and the near-painful nausea dissipated, Allen blearily cast his gaze around the room, disorientated and confused. He was in a kitchen with a number of empty bottles piled haphazardly on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass from bottles that had been broken. A boot poking through a mess of empty bottles was the only indication Allen had of having company, and when he felt able to walk he propped himself up using the wall in front of him, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand before stumbling forwards.

Lavi was tucked away in an awkward position between a counter and the far corner of the wall, bandanna covering his eyes, mouth hanging open. If Allen was in any state to have memorised such a sight to use as blackmail he would have done, but the pounding headache drove all thoughts but one from his head.

He was going to kill Lavi for putting him in this mess.

Without any shred of hesitation Allen brought his fist down _hard_ on the top of Lavi’s head, expression set into one of pained irritation. A sharp hiss of breath then a loud groan of pain escaped the person sat before him, and with clumsy gestures Lavi pulled up the bandanna obscuring his vision and squinted up at Allen.

“… No.”

Lavi turned to face the counter with a whimper, head pounding and stomach swirling uncomfortably. Feeling no sympathy, Allen brought his fist down again with a scowl.

“Don’t you ‘no’ me. Why do I feel like you’ve smashed my head in with your hammer?” He paused to look over the bottles before turning back to Lavi with anger tinging his words. “Did you drink all of these yourself?”

Lavi gave a shaky smile. “If I could handle that much alcohol I’d win prizes, beansprout.”

“ _My name is Allen_.”

“Okay, okay, just stop yellin’ at me. Fuck my head hurts…”

Allen scowled and flicked Lavi’s forehead. “So does mine, and I want you to explain why that is before I -”

“Me and Neah sorta got drunk. Maybe a little bit.” Allen raised an eyebrow and Lavi gave an uneasy laugh. “M-maybe a lot.”

Anger rising, Allen didn’t know whether he was more angry at Lavi for letting Neah do such a thing, or Neah for doing such a thing to _his_ body. But a sudden thought came to mind, one that replaced all anger he felt with sickening unease, and before he could say anything he stumbled back over to the other side of the room to vomit again.

When it was over he couldn’t move, head resting against the wall in front of him, eyes wide. His hands and legs shook from far more than just nausea and lack of food, and before Lavi could speak, he stumbled back over to where he’d awoken, picking up his coat and leaving the room with unsteady footsteps.

“Oi, Allen, where are you…?”

The sound of a door slamming shut made Lavi wince, head throbbing from the sudden noise. Although his stomach was as unsettled as Allen’s was he knew he could avoid having to throw up, at least for the time being, and when he felt able to stand he pushed himself up, clasping his head with one hand and grabbing hold of his duffel bag with the other before following Allen outside.

For a moment he couldn’t find him, panic flooding through him until he questioned whether he could avoid being sick after all, but eventually he saw a figure crouched a few metres away, head in hands, shoulders rising and falling far too quickly for normal breathing. Alarmed, Lavi hurried forwards as quickly as he felt able to before crouching down beside Allen and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Allen said nothing, eyes wide and unfocused as he tried to stop hyperventilating. It took a few minutes for his body to listen to him, and when he felt able to breathe normally, he inhaled then exhaled deeply and slowly, eyes fluttering closed. Lavi stood by his side, completely at a loss at what to do, unsure about why his friend was panicking. Arduous minutes passed, and just before Lavi tried to speak Allen pushed himself up and turned to him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s not a nice way to wake up, I’m sure you understand.”

His words did little to hide what lay beneath; Allen was lying to him, _badly_. Lavi paused, meeting Allen’s gaze with confusion, before sighing and looking away.

“Sorry ‘bout that. If you’re okay enough to walk, we shouldn’t stay here.”

“Agreed. I should be fine, so let’s head off.”

Allen turned and started walking immediately, and Lavi could do little else but follow after him with a frown, filled with concern and confusion. It was slow going, and Allen had to stop a number of times to retch by the roadside before he felt able to continue. When they happened across a stream they stopped to drink in silence, and when Lavi topped up two flasks from his bag he was nearly left behind as Allen walked off without a word.

He tried many times to talk to his companion, but Allen wouldn’t respond. When he gently touched his shoulder to get his attention at one point, Allen flinched and turned to him, wide-eyed and panicked, before nodding and continuing to walk. He seemed to walk in a daze, putting one foot before the other on auto-pilot, unresponsive to nearly everything around him, and Lavi had no idea how to help him.

Lavi’s concern only worsened as the day passed over into night. Both he and Allen felt too shaky and exhausted to continue, stopping for the night long before they would usually have stopped to rest. They had also run out of food supplies, and it soon became clear they would be going to bed hungry. After finding a small alcove of trees to take shelter within, Lavi set up a campfire as Allen stood and stared out of the trees as the world darkened around them. After he was done he looked over at Allen with a frown before standing and walking over to him.

“You should stay by the fire, it’s gonna be cold tonight.”

No response. Lavi sighed and raised his hand to place it upon Allen’s shoulder, but before he could react he was pushed backwards onto the ground.

“Woah, hey what’s -”

Allen was shaking, shoulders heaving, hands clenched tightly into fists. Lavi looked up at him, worry gripping its claws in deep. He tried to speak, but Allen cut him off with a shake of his head and a pained expression. Lavi took a moment to breathe in and out slowly before pushing himself up. Allen took a step backwards and it _hurt_.

“Allen, you’re not making any sense. What’s going on?”

No response. Lavi gave a frustrated sigh before taking a cautious step forward, wincing as Allen took a step back. They stood like this for many long minutes, the sound of crackling wood the only thing to break the heavy silence that had descended upon them. Eventually, with a voice so quiet Lavi could scarcely hear him, Allen spoke.

“I just need some time alone. I can’t, I can’t talk about this. I’m sorry.”

Lavi paused before sighing and giving a shrug in response before turning back to the fire and sitting down beside it. He watched as Allen walked outside of the alcove of trees, briefly considering warning him about being careful before cursing and saying nothing.

Allen didn’t stop walking until the campfire was but a tiny glow in the distance, the only visible light amongst the darkness. He sat down and leant against a fence post behind him, eyes fixed hazily on the clear night sky above his head. It all felt so unreal to him, so far away from his grasp; reality was slipping through his fingertips and it _terrified_ him. His thoughts strayed back to that morning and his chest became tight, a lump forming in his throat. A part of him felt as if he was overreacting, as if he was making assumptions about what had happened. But he couldn’t let go of the thought that Lavi would be fine if he stopped existing, that Lavi was growing to prefer Neah’s company, that Allen was truly nothing more than a thing to watch and record until it wasn’t required anymore, that he was going to keep slipping further and further into darkness until it was too late.

He felt himself descend into quiet sobs, months of fear and exhaustion escaping from the deep, deep hole he’d buried it in. He felt empty and numb, as if his body was no longer his own; he was losing his grip and it was more terrifying than anything he had ever felt in his entire life. The stars blurred as tears obscured his vision, and as he bowed his head and gripped hold of the grass beneath him with his fingertips he didn’t know how much longer he could keep going.

His future had always been uncertain, and he had accepted long ago that his life ultimately meant nothing. His promise to Mana had kept him going, had urged him away from the dark, consuming thoughts of giving up when things were too much to bear. He had forced himself to continuously pick himself up from the ground, over and over again, no matter how many times he fell and wished to end it all. Now should be no different, but the thing that had kept him going - that glorious promise, the memory of the man who had loved him when everyone else had shunned and hated him - was so far away, so distant. Ever since Cross had told him the truth about Mana and the 14th, he had been unable to get rid of the idea that Mana had loved Neah all this time and not him. His entire existence, his entire reason to keep going, was firmly rooted in Mana’s love for him, and the doubt that had been eating away at him ever since he began questioning it was all but consuming him.

He was disappearing, just like Neah wanted.

As this thought came to mind, he felt his body slowly become still and calm, and a burning anger arose within his heart; it was the anger of his childhood, when he had been bitter and alone and hated the world and everyone who lived in it. When Mana had taken him in that anger had faded over time, or at the very least it had retreated into a dark corner of his heart. After Mana died, that anger came back every now and then, but Cross had taught him to let it go, to not fight Akuma with hate. And so he had done exactly that, and the anger simply buried itself deeper inside of him until he could scarcely feel its presence. But now he could feel it strongly, heart gripped tightly by resentment.

If he was doomed to disappear then so be it, but he wasn’t going to let Neah take his body without fighting tooth-and-nail for it.

Allen stood, hands clenched tightly into fists, silver eyes afire with both anger and determination. His promise to Mana was no longer enough to keep him going, his promise to himself that he would fight for both Akuma and human beings was pointless without his Innocence to aid him. And though he was terrified of the dark writhing thing inside of him that was fuelling the anger he was feeling he knew he needed something, _anything_ to keep him grounded in reality, to keep him firmly rooted in who he was, in being ‘Allen’.

It would have to be enough.

He looked back over at the tiny orange glow in the distance, to where Lavi was undoubtedly sat waiting for him to return. He knew he needed to go back but he felt gripped by sudden hesitation. The promise he had made to himself when Lavi arrived, that he would leave as soon as he could to protect his friend from being hurt - from both Neah and himself - came to the forefront of his thoughts, leaving him conflicted and anxious. He took a step away from the campfire, knowing that Lavi would not find him for many days, if at all, if he left now. He could finally go on to do… what? He had no purpose but to keep running from his fate, to keep trying to protect those he loved from himself and the Noah eager to erase him. But he could not so easily reassure himself that Lavi would be safe if he left - he was still having nightmares for reasons he refused to share, he was so fragile compared to how he’d been before - nor that Lavi would so easily let him go off on his own, especially now that he knew just how badly he needed the help. Allen froze, forced into an inward tug-of-war between what he needed and what he assumed others needed. For many long minutes he stood there, filled with indecision, unable to either abandon the help he had found or so carelessly accept it regardless of the dangers of doing so.

In the end, what he perceived as selfishness won; he would stay with Lavi, for now.

Eventually, after taking a moment to simply stand and breathe and calm himself down, Allen made his way back to the alcove of trees that constituted his and Lavi’s shelter for the night, preparing himself to apologise to his friend and hopefully avoid having to talk about why he had behaved the way he did. When the crackle of burning wood and a warm ember glow spread over him, and the sight of Lavi sat half-heartedly poking the fire with a stick came into view, Allen gave a quiet noise to signify he was back. Lavi looked up sharply, standing up with quick but clumsy gestures once his gaze met Allen’s own.

For a few moments they stood there like this, eyes meeting, trying to gauge how the other felt without putting it into words, unsure how to ask. Allen was the first to break away and turn his gaze towards the ground with a conflicted expression, hands clenched into fists. Eventually, with a quiet sigh, Lavi stood and walked towards him. He moved slowly and carefully, making sure Allen was comfortable, before stopping close by him and bringing a fist down onto his head with little strength to even warrant it hurting.

“If you need space just tell me next time, ‘kay?”

There was evident concern in Lavi’s words, and it conflicted with the doubts that still wandered in-and-out of Allen’s thoughts. He paused, eyes widening, before giving a small smile.

“I’ll try. I’m -”

Lavi brought his fist down again, shaking his head. “Don’t apologise.” He paused before continuing softly. “You should get some sleep, beansprout.”

“It’s Allen.”

Lavi laughed. “Okay, okay. You should get some sleep, _Allen_.”

Allen gave a quiet laugh in reply, and it eased the tension that had been eating away at the both of them since the day had begun. Lavi ruffled his hair gently before walking away to sit by the campfire once more, and for a brief moment, Allen stared over at his friend, emotion flickering in his eyes, before heading to a spot near the campfire to lie down and attempt to sleep.

One day, if he had the heart to tell him, he’d talk about his fears. But, for now, it would have to remain hidden until he felt ready to let it go.


	6. Shared Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry it took over a month to get this out. It's been extremely tough going lately, but I'm glad I've finally been able to get this out at least. I know the pace has been pretty slow, but things will amp up from this chapter onwards, so look forward to it! As always let me know what you think, and thank you to everyone who left kudos and/or comments on the previous chapter! Enjoy reading!
> 
> Content warning: slight emetophobia warning for the very start of the chapter

It had been a long night.

After only a few hours of keeping watch, Lavi had to wake Allen up to swap before throwing up at the base of a nearby tree, hours of stomach-churning worry aggravating the nausea he already felt from the night of drinking. Allen gave him a sympathetic pat on the back before moving to Lavi’s previous spot by the campfire, feeling better for the brief amount of sleep he’d managed to get.

Hours passed, and as dawn arose timidly above the treetops, and Allen prepared to get up and find something edible, he heard quiet shuffling noises, a yawn and stretch of limbs. He cast his gaze over to his companion, hoping he’d slept well despite periodically needing to vomit, and noticed something that he had missed when he’d retaken control of his body; Lavi was injured.

“Hey, when did you get hurt? Are you alright?”

Concern filtered through into Allen’s words, and it took Lavi a few moments of blinking sleepily over at Allen before he realised what he meant.

“Ah, I’m fine don’t worry. Me and Neah fought off some Akuma and -” he paused to yawn, rubbing at his eye clumsily “- I was an idiot. It’s nothin’ to worry about.”

Allen gave a quiet hum of disagreement before lapsing into silence, standing up to stretch with a wince. Sitting for hours on end was not doing his back any favours, or his body in general, but he knew somewhat begrudgingly that hours of walking would soon distract him from the discomfort the night had brought him. He walked around the alcove of trees to try and get rid of the numbness that had set into his limbs, giving Lavi some time to properly wake up and prepare himself for the day ahead.

When he returned he noticed Lavi was rooting through his duffel bag with a worried expression. Allen quickly made his way over with a frown.

“Is there a problem?”

Lavi smiled grimly. “We’re completely out of supplies. No food, got enough water to keep us goin’ for the moment but that’s it.”

Allen whined, clutching at his painfully empty stomach. “I’m gonna die.”

Lavi gave a quiet laugh. “You’ll be fine. Just means we need to either steal some supplies or make enough money to buy some.”

Allen knelt down to rummage through Lavi’s bag for the map, opening it up and trying to gauge their location with a hum of concentration.

“How far did you get while I was gone?”

“We got detoured a little, but we’re still on track for reaching Lons-le-Saunier soon. I’d say we’re…” Lavi paused before pointing to a spot on the map. “… around here probably?”

Allen turned to him. “That’d put us pretty close to Mâcon, correct? If we need supplies, that’d probably be the best place to head to.”

Lavi frowned. “I don’t know about that. Cities are a great place to get ambushed, ‘sprout.”

Allen huffed, bringing his fist down on Lavi’s head. “It’s Allen. And I know that, but we don’t have a lot of options. We’re probably not even a day out from Mâcon, so it’s the closest place we could head to that’ll have what we need.”

“Yeah but it’d be risky, nearby towns could give us enough supplies to keep goin’.”

Allen grinned, expression darkening. “Yes, but they won’t have the kind of prey we need to get money.”

Lavi faltered, edging away from him with a mortified expression. “Allen, you’re scarin’ me over there buddy.”

Allen chuckled, clenching his fist with a grin. “Those suckers won’t know what hit them.”

While taking a moment to give him a worried look something dawned on Lavi, spurring him on to speak. “Ah, but you’re forgetting something important, Allen.”

His companion turned towards him, the dark expression on his face dissipating. “What’s that?”

Lavi gave a grim smile. “If Neah awakens at any point while you’re card sharkin’, we’re screwed.”

Allen faltered. “M-maybe he’s also good at cards?”

“I doubt it. I’m decent enough at cards but nowhere near as good at bluffing as you are. However -” he turned to Allen with a grin “- luckily for you I have my own ways of gettin’ money.”

Allen raised a questioning eyebrow before giving a deceivingly innocent smile. “Well, I’m sure we can find some decent brothels in Mâcon that -”

Lavi swiftly interrupted, pointing a finger with flushed cheeks. “What?! Th-that’s not what I meant!”

Allen tutted, voice stern. “Now, now, Lavi, it’s a very skilled profession.”

Lavi blinked, expression incredulous, before speaking in a quiet voice. “W-well, okay sure but…” He paused, scowl forming on his face. “… Ya know, I worry about you a lot, Allen. You shouldn’t know this shit.”

Allen laughed, shaking his head a little before standing and stretching.

“Lavi, you’re forgetting who my master is. Those kinds of… _establishments_ became as much a home as anywhere else, considering how much my master frequented them.” Allen pulled a face before shaking his head a little, a gentle smile forming on his features. ”I owe a lot to the people who worked in those kinds of places, protecting and practically raising me.” He shrugged. “They did a better job than my bastard master ever did, at any rate.”

He adjusted his coat before turning to Lavi with a raised eyebrow. “Are you going to just sit there or are we going to attempt to head off anytime soon?”

Lavi stared up at him for a moment, realising rather suddenly that he’d never heard Allen speak about his past so openly before, before shaking his head a little and pushing himself up. After folding the map up and placing it in his rather empty bag, he walked ahead of Allen and turned north-east from their location, using a battered compass for reference.

Allen’s estimate of how long it would take to get to Mâcon was not quite as accurate as they’d both hoped; it took nearly two days to reach the city’s outer borders. Being without food for close to three days had taken its toll on the both of them, and the grim realisation that they were likely in no state to do much of anything was a difficult one to swallow. With a lot of reluctance, Lavi sold his Exorcist jacket in bits and pieces to various pawn shops across the city, which he had been hanging onto for a reason he refused to tell Allen - though it was rather obvious he didn’t want to lose his last physical tie to the Order - which gave them enough money to get food and shelter for a few nights.

Or, at least, it would have lasted them if Allen hadn’t eaten triple his weight in food at the inn they had chosen to stay at.

Lavi knew, rationally, that Allen’s Innocence had always given him a monstrous appetite, and days - if not weeks, months even - of starving when usually he would have eaten ridiculous amounts of food was a very valid reason for eating without thinking. But regardless, the temptation to use the money from his jacket to pay for his food and leave Allen to his own devices as punishment was strong. Allen using his infamous charm to prevent them from being chucked out on the street, however, stopped him from going through with it.

They managed to get a room despite what had happened, all thanks to a rather dramatic sob story from Allen - and occasional nodding and pitiful whimpering from Lavi - and having the opportunity to sleep in a proper bed with a roof over their heads did wonders for both their states of mind when they awoke the next morning.

It was going to be a long day of earning enough money to buy supplies that would tide them over until they crossed the border into Germany, and after spending close to half an hour debating whether they should split up or not - in which Lavi argued that without their golems it was too risky to separate, and Allen insisted it would be fine and they shouldn’t waste too much time - they decided to stick together in their endeavours to earn money.

The first few hours of the morning were devoted to scouting the city; finding useful locations and exits, checking that there were no members of the Order lurking around, no Akuma or Noah waiting to ambush them. When all seemed clear and midday reared its head, they made their way down a set of alleyways from the city centre to the river. Much to Lavi’s relief, there was a group of people gathered around in a circle by the bank, with more people stood smoking under the shelter of temporary wooden shacks; it was exactly what he was looking for.

As they came to a stop a few metres away Allen leaned towards Lavi and spoke in quiet undertones, eyebrow raised. “Why are we here?”

Lavi turned to him and grinned. “Take a guess, beansprout.”

“It’s Allen.” He paused to look over the group of people carefully. “Well, it’s obvious they’re betting something, but I can’t tell what. Is it animal fighting?”

Lavi shook his head. Before Allen could ask more questions, he heard loud cheers as a man stumbled backwards before falling to the ground, clutching at his stomach with a pained expression. Another man stepped forward to pull him up and clap him on the back before turning towards the crowd of people with a grin.

Allen looked over at Lavi with a concerned expression. “Please tell me you’ve done this before.”

Lavi gave a winning smile. “You could say that. Now hang back here, and try not to get us into any trouble, ‘kay?”

Allen started to tell him to be careful, but decided against it and settled for a nod and shuffled backwards into the shadow of a nearby shack. Lavi took off his coat and threw it towards Allen - who hastily caught it with a hand - before walking forwards, turning to give a thumbs up before facing the man at the centre of the crowd. They appeared to exchange words, though from his position Allen could not hear what was said, and as the crowd encircled them Lavi faded from view. Cheering started up, fuelled by bloodlust and the desire for entertainment - as well as the desire for money, since bets would be made on whoever won each fight, undoubtedly - and Allen almost missed the sound of fists meeting flesh, choked breaths and stumbling footsteps in the mud.

Less than a minute in and Lavi’s opponent was sent flying into the crowd of people, who parted just in time to avoid a collision. Allen gave an audible sigh of relief that Lavi appeared to have won the fight, and despite Lavi’s warning to hang back he felt curious about how exactly he was winning. He’d never seen his friend in unarmed combat, and though he knew Lavi was a powerful fighter using his Innocence, he had no clue about his talents without it.

He walked forward, making sure to hunch his shoulders and appear as unapproachable and uninteresting as possible, finding a spot between two rather large men that meant he could see the fighting happen but left him mostly hidden from view. Another man approached the centre, and after he and Lavi sized each other up the match began.

The man made his first move almost instantly; a rookie mistake. Allen knew enough about street fighting to have realised that sizing up your opponent and finding their weaknesses was the best strategy, and luckily Lavi knew it as well. With a quick step forward and a powerful forward push of his right palm, the man was sent hurtling towards the ground. A man dressed in finer clothes than the rest of the crowd stepped forward and raised his hand; it seemed that losing constituted hitting the ground first.

The crowd descended into disappointed chatter, money passing between the hands of those who had bet wisely and those who hadn’t. After a few minutes of discontent, a sudden hush fell upon the crowd as someone entered the centre of the circle to be Lavi’s third opponent; a woman with short hair and a definite look of experience about her.

Those watching began talking excitedly among themselves, and Allen picked up enough from the slang-heavy French to know that this woman was a _professional_. Lavi recognised as much, giving a respectful nod before raising his fists. The man organising the event called out and asked for bids, and in the chaos that resulted Allen found himself pushed out of the crowd. As he tried to shuffle his way back in he spotted two children a few steps behind him, craning their necks to try and see above the mass of adults in front of them. With a friendly smile, Allen offered out his hand and after they nodded eagerly he pulled them in front of him, protecting them from any unfriendly elbows and making sure the three of them could see what was happening in the centre.

One of the children, a boy with messy blonde hair and crooked teeth, reached up to pull at Allen’s coat. “So, who’re you bettin’ on?”

Allen smiled down at him. “I don’t have the money to bet, but if I did, it’d go to the redhead over there.”

The child on the other side of him, a girl with red hair and freckles, gave an appreciative nod. “I’d bet on him, too.”

The boy turned to his friend and gave her an incredulous look. “But that woman over there is Mâcon’s champion of _savate_! No-one’s ever beaten her.”

Allen had heard the word _savate_ before; it was a form of French boxing that was popular in Paris, particularly with sailors coming in with their cargo from the north-west. He’d never taken part in it, but had heard enough about it to remember hearing about broken bones being commonplace. As a deathly quiet befell the crowd, he turned to face forwards, hoping that Lavi was skilled enough to avoid being seriously injured; the last thing they needed right now was a complication.

The two opponents circled each other, watching each other’s movements with careful glances. Initially, it seemed that the two of them were at an impasse, neither wishing to make the first move. Eventually, the woman moved, extending her leg out in a kick too fast for most to pick up on, aiming for Lavi’s stomach. He moved aside in time and blocked with the side of his arm, pushing her foot away and maintaining his position. She smiled over at him, evidently pleased that he would be somewhat of a challenge. For a while they exchanged what seemed to be introductory blows, as if it was a form of getting to know each other.

And then the _real_ fight began.

Quick movements, constituting heavy kicks and forceful palm strikes; _savate_ was a battle of patience more than anything else. Biding your time for the right moment to strike and the right moment to defend was crucial to avoiding having your bones broken. Within mere moments, Allen had gotten his answer on Lavi’s skill in hand-to-hand combat; he was _frighteningly_ good. He was fast, but there was a surprising amount of hidden strength in his movements as well; he matched his opponent’s pace, dodging whatever they threw his way and using his speed to an advantage to move in for the kill.

His opponent was not as fast as he was, leaving her at a disadvantage in terms of speed, but she very easily outmatched him in terms of strength. After finding an opening she shoved her foot into Lavi’s chest _hard_ , sending him back a few paces as he gripped at his ribs, wheezing for breath. She tried to place her winning blow - a brutal hit to the back of the head with her hand - and failed, pushed back by Lavi’s palm colliding forcefully into her shoulder.  She stepped backwards with a wince, trying to roll her shoulder and hissing as pain shot through her body; he’d dislocated it. With a quiet curse she gritted her teeth and retained her defensive stance, watching Lavi carefully as he breathed in-and-out before straightening up. They circled each other again, gauging how injured the other was and if there was something to take advantage of, and then they were off again.

Allen watched with a steadily building uneasiness clutching at his heart, and he didn’t know if it was out of worry for his friend being injured or something else. He had noticed a change had come upon Lavi; a cold analytical aura that contrasted sharply with the usual warmth he gave off. It was a strange combination of both fear and déjà vu, and it took him a long time to realise he’d seen Lavi like this before. On the Ark, he had fought someone who at the very least looked like Lavi, but was not ‘Lavi’ at all. How much of it was Allen trying to ignore the thought that it could have been who Lavi ‘really was’, he didn’t know. But he knew that he had seen this before; the style of fighting, the ruthless, tactical way of attacking that Lavi was exhibiting. When he fought using his Innocence he was brash, often relying on emotion as motivation to keep fighting. But the way he fought now was completely different, as if he was a different person.

Lost in his thoughts, Allen almost missed the change in pace unfolding in the fight before him. Things had sped up, taken on an almost desperate edge, and he realised that both Lavi and the woman he was fighting were close to their limit. Lavi kept grasping at his ribs, wincing whenever he breathed in too heavily, and his opponent could no longer properly use her right arm and was limping. Allen knew from his limited experience that the match would only end when one of them surrendered or was defeated.

It ended within seconds; Lavi made one misstep, placed too much weight on one side, making him unbalanced enough for the kick aimed at his shoulder to send him crashing to the ground. The crowd descended into a mess of shouts and cheers, people eager to claim their winnings. Allen took it as a cue to move backwards, taking both children beside him to safety a few metres away, and watched the crowd of people carefully for Lavi making his exit. After a few minutes he saw his friend limp towards him, and he immediately rushed forward to put an arm around Lavi’s side, helping him towards a crudely made bench so he could sit.

“I thought you said you’d done this before.”

Allen’s voice was filled with barely disguised concern. Lavi gave him a weary smile, leaning into him a little.

“I’ve done it before, if I hadn’t I would’ve been knocked out before I could even say ‘ _salut_ ’.” He winced as Allen forced him to sit down, left hand placed gently over his ribs. “Though it’s been a few years, gotta admit.”

Before Lavi could say anything more, the two children Allen had befriended immediately surrounded the both of them, firing off excited question after question. Allen nearly considered telling them to give Lavi some space, but it seemed like his friend didn’t mind the attention.

The sound of approaching footsteps caused the children to fall silent and turn around. The woman Lavi had fought was stood, extending out a hand with a number of notes in her grasp.

“Here, it’s for you.”

Lavi raised an eyebrow. “I lost, that’s all yours. You won it fair and square, didn’t ya?”

The woman gave a short, sharp laugh. “Well, at least you’re not a sore loser.” She paused before shaking her head. “Winning and losing, it doesn’t matter. You gave me a good fight, and I think you deserve enough of this to ignore your injuries with some good beer.”

Lavi stared up at her for a moment before shrugging and taking the money before shaking her hand with a grin. “If I happen to be here again, I’ll make sure to kick your ass.”

The woman laughed, squeezing his hand tightly before pulling away with a smile. “You can try, _boy_. Now -” she turned to face back towards the crowd and shouted over at them. “Who’s next?”

As she walked away to find another opponent the two children excitedly ran forward, waving goodbye at Allen before weaving their way into the crowd. Allen and Lavi sat and sighed heavily before exchanging quiet laughter, relieved that they had somewhat left the entire thing unscathed. After taking a moment to sit and relax, Lavi eventually flicked through the notes in his hand and gave an appreciative whistle.

“Well, this’ll definitely get us enough supplies and then some.” He turned to Allen with a grin. “Fancy living it up tonight, beansprout?”

Allen laughed and shook his head. “It’s Allen. And I don’t think you’re in any state to do that, you idiot. Come on, we should get your injuries sorted out.”

* * *

After heading to an inn across the city, using as many side alleys as they could along the way, Allen and Lavi paid for a room and made themselves at home. Lavi promptly collapsed onto a bed, grasping at his side with a hiss of pain. He took a moment to gently press against his ribs with two fingers, trying to gauge if any were broken. Allen, who had perched himself at the end of the bed, gave him a worried look.

“How bad is it?”

Lavi looked up at him with a relieved smile. “None of them are broken, just bruised. But…” He paused, smile dissipating into a slight grimace. “I, uh, might have reopened the wound I got from that fight a week ago.”

Allen sighed, shaking his head a little before standing and reaching for Lavi’s bag to grab bandages and move to sit beside him. With clumsy gestures and sharp intakes of breath, Lavi sat up and lifted his shirt, revealing blood-specked bandages, which he unwrapped with a pained expression. He gave a quiet laugh before speaking.

“The funny thing is my ribs hurt way more than this thing does.”

Allen made a tutting noise. “If you’d have just let me rip some people off this wouldn’t have been a problem, stupid Lavi.”

Lavi huffed. “And if Neah had taken over while you were ripping these people off we’d both be dealin’ with a lot worse than some bruised ribs, moron.”

“Stupid Lavi.”

“Idiot beansprout.”

Allen scowled and flicked Lavi’s forehead. “Oi, my name is Allen, so use it.” As he finished speaking, the last of the bandages unravelled, so he simply shook his head and leant forward to inspect the injury, expression fading into one of concern. “That’s such a messy wound, how’d you get it?”

Lavi rubbed the back of his neck with a strained smile. “I might’ve, uh, got hit by an Akuma bullet.”

Allen froze, eyes widening, panic flooding through him as he looked up at Lavi in shock. “What?! But you -”

“Should’ve turned into a load of dust, I know. Luckily, goin’ Crystal Type seems to have its advantages.”

Allen faltered before shaking his head vehemently, hands clenched into fists. “But you didn’t know that! You could have died, why weren’t you more careful?”

A tense silence descended upon them for a brief moment. Lavi sighed before patting Allen on the shoulder with a weak attempt at a reassuring smile.

“Hey, if it makes ya feel better I’d have been dead whether I’d fought that Akuma here or with the Order. Unless Krorykins was with me I’d still be -”

Allen’s voice rose in pitch. “Lavi, that’s _not_ helping.”

Lavi paused before speaking, defeated. “Right, uh, I’ll stop then.”

“That’d be a good idea.”

Allen’s tone gave no room for argument, and as the tense silence returned to grace them with its presence Allen carefully bandaged Lavi’s wound, ignoring any protests from him as he did so. He also insisted on checking the ones around his hands, though Lavi stated they should be fine, and shot him a look when he saw the same messy grazes across his palms.

“And this is from…?”

Lavi gave a nervous laugh. “I may or may not have pushed a bullet out of… the way of Neah…”

The uneasiness from a few days ago hit Allen like a punch to the stomach, and he visibly paled before he started wrapping new bandages around Lavi’s hands. Uncertain on what to do or say, Lavi took a moment to take a deep breath before speaking in quiet tones.

“Listen, I don’t… see him as a friend, you know that right?” Allen paused in his actions before continuing with an unreadable expression. “He’s an annoyin’ bastard and I only did it because it was necessary. Your Innocence doesn’t work right now and -”

Allen stopped completely before muttering under his breath. “Wow, thanks for the reminder.”

There was a bitter edge to Allen’s voice and it made Lavi wince. Irritation built within him, but it sat uncomfortably beside the guilt he had been feeling since Allen had reawakened. He sighed heavily, shoulders slumping.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Allen. Maybe things are a lil confusin’ with him right now or something, I don’t know. I just -”

“I’m sorry.”

Lavi froze at Allen’s words, feeling his friend’s hands tremble against his own as he attempted to continue wrapping bandages around Lavi’s hand. After a minute of heavy silence, Allen sighed and withdrew away from him, wrapping his arms around his middle.

“I shouldn’t be taking this out on you, it’s not fair. I’m sorry. I’ve not… been dealing with all of this, with Neah and the past few months. I’ve been so scared he’s going to hurt the people I care about…” His voice broke a little and it was painful to hear. “What if I can’t fight him off? What if he takes over one day and I’ll… have disappeared? I don’t…” He took a deep shuddering breath in, shaking his head before exhaling. “I don’t know how to deal with this.”

“No-one should be expectin’ you to be dealing with this.” Lavi’s voice had turned surprisingly gentle, and Allen found himself looking up to see sympathy and understanding in his friend’s gaze. “To be honest, I’m surprised you managed to keep goin’ this long without snapping. Anyone else in your position would’ve done that months ago.”

Allen couldn’t reply, lowering his head and choking on the lump that had formed in his throat, speechless and gripped by emotion. Lavi watched him for a few moments before deciding something, swallowing audibly before speaking, heart fluttering anxiously in his chest.

“You know… If I hadn’t been dealin’ with this since I was a kid I probably would’ve snapped too.” Allen looked up, eyes wide. Lavi faltered a little but he kept going, forcing himself to continue despite the sudden panic taking hold of him. “You had this dropped on you with no time to really process it, ya know? Everyone just expected you to handle it. But it’s hard so you shouldn’t -”

“So it wasn’t you, back then.”

Lavi paused at the words spoken, tilting his head with a frown. It took Allen a few moments to realise he’d spoken aloud, and he quickly moved backwards a little and raised his hands in defence.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -”

“What do you mean, ‘back then’?”

There was an edge to Lavi’s voice, a building sense of alarm showing in his gaze, and Allen knew he had to explain himself whether he wanted to or not. He lowered his hands and wrung them together nervously, refusing to meet Lavi’s gaze.

“Ah, I meant while you were fighting earlier, but also… back on the Ark, it wasn’t… it wasn’t you back then, was it?”

Lavi frowned, unsure of what Allen was referring to, before he tensed up, eye widening, snapshots of memory passing before his vision in quick succession; Road Kamelot, darkened waters, a knife in his heart, the dim sensation of fists meeting flesh, desperate words that he couldn’t quite make out, he had felt so far away… He took a deep shuddering breath and released it, head bowed, fingers digging into the bed sheets beneath him.

Allen said nothing, watching the way Lavi had tensed up with a concerned expression. But amongst the worry he felt there was something else, too, something he couldn’t name that gripped hold of him so tightly it was hard to breathe. Eventually Lavi took a sharp intake of breath, looked up, and met Allen’s gaze with a strained smile.

“Can’t imagine that was the best way to meet him, huh?”

Allen faltered for a moment, seeing nothing but honesty and emotion in Lavi’s expression, and felt his lips pull up into a smile, a quiet laugh escaping his lips; he was no longer alone, someone actually _understood_. There was also a deep sense of relief flooding through him, that the words spoken to him back then - _I am not your friend_ \- were not Lavi’s words, that Lavi had not been the one to hurt him.

Lavi laughed along with him, and for a few moments they did nothing more than laugh, sharing this mutual feeling of relief. When his laughter died down, Allen found himself looking over at his friend as if for the first time, his entire perspective changed on the person he thought he knew; and yet, strangely, he felt like he had known all along. After the events on Noah’s Ark he had suspected - and hoped - that it had not been Lavi who had attacked him, and small moments since then that he had shrugged off slotted neatly together now that Lavi had confirmed he was not ‘just Lavi’. A weight Allen hadn’t realised he’d been carrying slipped off of his shoulders, giving him a deep sense of relief that permeated through his entire being. He took a moment to relish it, the weightlessness he felt, before speaking, voice soft and full of gratefulness.

“Thank you for telling me, Lavi.”

Lavi found himself unable to respond for a moment, struck by the genuine gratitude shown in Allen’s smile, the gentle way he was looking at him. He knew that the news about the 14th had been a burden for Allen for all these months, and he had considered sharing his experiences long before they had sat upon this bed, miles away from the place they used to call home. But, in a way, he was glad he’d waited until now, distanced from the burdensome duty that had suffocated him after escaping Noah’s Ark alive. Lavi returned the smile he had been given, the anxiety that had risen within him dissipating.

“No problem, beansprout.”

Allen shot him a look, though the smile did not fall from his features. “It’s Allen, stupid Lavi.” He took a moment to think of how to word his question before speaking. “Does this mean that… sometimes you won’t be ‘Lavi’?”

Lavi paused before replying, shaking his head a little. “Sort of, but not in the same way you and Neah work, at least. I mean -” he shrugged, bitterness showing in his expression “- lately it’s been a bit different… But you don’t need to worry or anythin’.”

Allen nodded; Lavi didn’t need to explain why it had been different in recent months. It was the first time he had been even remotely open about what had happened to him, the state he was in, and Allen appreciated it more than he could express with words, that Lavi trusted him enough to say even this much.

Lavi rubbed the back of his neck, visibly awkward. “I’d rather not get into it, but all ya need to know is the guy from earlier’s called Junior.”

Allen frowned. “So he’s… the person from the Ark as well?” When Lavi nodded, he gave a confused noise. “But… don’t you also go by Junior sometimes, or was that…?”

“Ah, I mean to everyone else ‘Lavi’ and ‘Junior’ are the same, right? But he doesn’t actually have a name, ‘least neither of us remember it, so Junior just works better than -” Allen gave him a confused look and he simply shook his head, knowing it would be too difficult to explain. “- never mind. Anyway, he was there more than I was earlier cause we were fightin’ that lady.” Allen frowned and Lavi gave an understanding smile. “I mean, your impression of him is probably that he’s a scary piece of shit, right? But he’s not like that, just a bit… over-protective, and when he doesn’t have context for somethin’ it can get a bit out of hand, ya know?”

“I… think I sort of understand. So, on the Ark…”

Lavi grimaced, expression darkening. “That was different. It was mostly Road’s fault that things… happened the way they did, but I really don’t wanna talk about it. Plus -” he poked Allen’s forehead with a smile. “This ain’t about me.”

Allen pushed his hand away with a wry smile. “Oh? I thought you were taking a moment to be the centre of attention.”

Lavi scowled. “Oi, don’t get sassy with me. And I mean it.” His voice softened, full of gentle understanding. “The reason I told you about this was so you’d stop beatin’ yourself up for not dealin’ well. Now you know that I know what’s going on and I know that you know that… uh…”

Allen laughed, shaking his head a little. “Alright, alright I get it.” He paused before clambering off the bed, heading towards the door while looking over his shoulder with a grin. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m _starving_.”

Lavi shot him a look. “You’re always starving, Allen.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t change that right now I’m _particularly_ hungry.”

Lavi sighed and pushed himself up with a wince, following behind Allen with limping footsteps. “Fine, we’ll get somethin’ to eat, but if you blow away all our money like yesterday, I’m gonna strangle you with spaghetti.”

Allen snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”

Lavi shook his head, knowing better than to start an argument with Allen no matter how playful it was in actuality. Allen started to turn and face forward to open the door, but as his eyes met Lavi’s own, he felt himself fall still.

They exchanged glances, then, both gripped by a strange sense of seeing each other - who they really were - for the first time. Allen seemed so much older than he had been all those long months ago, aged beyond his years. No longer was he the seemingly naïve boy, so full of hope and faith that he blinded those around him; now he was wiser, tired and bitter, but filled with a fire that refused to die out no matter what was thrown his way.

And to Allen, Lavi had lost the friendly cheer that had initially been tinged with falsity when he had first met him, greeted with a smile that left Allen on edge as he sat in a hospital bed, bandaged and bruised after meeting with Road Kamelot for the first time. Since then, Lavi’s mask had been shattered, leaving behind a person Allen had come to get to know in recent days; bitter and fragile, weary of duty and even wearier of being without it.

They had both become different people during their time away from the place they called home, forced by cruel circumstance to abandon the relative security they had gained from the Black Order’s walls. Whether either of them would come out of their trials stronger than they had been before was yet to be decided, but in that moment they knew for certain that things had changed, within themselves and between the two of them. There were fewer hidden secrets now, no masks guarding what lay within; at least for the moment. It was a somewhat vulnerable sensation, and neither felt particularly comfortable with such a feeling, but the shared understanding they now had of each other’s experiences had solidified something important, something that spoke of trust and support and everything the both of them had needed in recent months.

Lavi was the first to break the exchange, gaze drifting to the floor, expression difficult to read. After a few seconds he pushed Allen forward a little with a smile, urging him outside the room and towards the sounds of clinking glass, the smell of cooking food. Allen considered blocking the door, if not just to annoy his companion - and to break the strange atmosphere that had descended upon them - but his growling stomach said otherwise.

He would have time to ponder on what had just happened later. For now, food was _far_ more important than anything else.


	7. Escape or Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the delay in posting an update! I’m also doubly sorry because there will be a brief hiatus for this fic while I get re-accustomed with university and work on editing the rest of the fic. Thank you for all the support so far, and I hope I can get the following chapters out at a more regular pace after the hiatus. Enjoy reading and as always let me know what you think!

That night Lavi and Allen went to bed feeling like _kings_.

Having stomachs full of food, falling asleep on feather beds, having clean skin finally rid of dirt and blood; it was heaven compared to the days they had spent semi-starving and sleeping in clothes that they had both walked and fought in for miles. Lavi took first watch, as he always did, finding a comfortable spot by the door where he could sit and peruse through the books he had found on a nearby shelf. After a few hours he gently awoke his companion to swap over and attempted to sleep himself, knowing that despite his good state of mind nightmares had been ever-present since he had left the Order; proper sleep was always hard to come by.

After swapping over, Allen half-heartedly read through the books Lavi had left by his previous spot on the floor before giving up an hour or so in, bored of squinting down at inked pages with the glow of a streetlamp outside as his only way of reading the words before him. He politely ignored Lavi’s muttered words, the way he gasped for breath when he woke up from what was clearly an unpleasant dream, how his shoulders shook when he tried to calm down enough to return to his slumber. Although their earlier conversation had eased much of the tension that had arisen between them since they had started travelling together, there was still the mystery of Lavi’s sudden appearance and what had happened to him and Bookman hanging over them. It was obvious that it had been deeply traumatising, leaving Lavi a nervous wreck compared to the person he had been at the Order. Allen wanted to help him in whatever way he could, but he knew from bitter experience that he would have to wait for Lavi to allow him to help.

Hours passed, and dawn slowly cast its presence upon the world. Lost in his thoughts, it took Allen a few moments to notice the hot feeling rising up from deep within, to acknowledge the sudden blurring of his vision and numbness setting into his limbs. He felt himself slip away and tried to hold on and maintain his control, gripping the book beneath him so tightly the pages ripped, but it was in vain. His presence faded, silver eyes falling shut, slumping against the wall behind him.

Minutes passed. Amber eyes slowly opened as Neah’s presence came to the fore, skin darkening to a russet brown. He felt Allen’s presence dwindle, a tiny flame flickering in the darkness. He wished he could put it out, to rid himself of his host and his pathetic attempts at resistance, but as always nothing happened; he couldn’t do it. After arduous minutes passed by, amber eventually faded to silver, skin pale once more; the Noah of Destruction would not arise this night.

Although Neah had maintained his control he had failed - yet again - to fully push Allen away.

Neah pushed himself up, rubbing at his face with slow gestures, feeling exhausted. It took a moment for him to register the room he was in, that he was no longer sat surrounded by bottles on a cold kitchen floor. Neah froze, searching through the last memories he had before awakening; he had gotten drunk with Lavi, desperate for some kind of release after days of exhaustion and irritation. He inwardly reproached himself for letting his guard down in such a way, knowing that if Lavi had needed any excuse to betray him he’d given him such an opportunity on a silver platter. However, as that night pieced itself together, he was struck by a sudden realisation and all feelings but one dissipated into nothingness.

Despite the frustration he felt at the impasse between Allen and himself, the knowledge that he had escaped what had probably been a gruelling hangover was a _beautiful_ feeling.

As dawn’s first light filtered through the windows above the bed, and Neah had just begun looking at the ripped pages in his hands with a confused expression, the sound of stirring blankets brought his attention towards the bed across the room. After a few minutes of groaning and refusing to move, Lavi eventually sat up with a pained expression, blearily looking around the brightening room. As his gaze eventually settled upon Neah, and the realisation kicked in that it was indeed Neah and not Allen any longer, Lavi sat up a little straighter and attempted to gather his wits together.

They sat in silence for a while, both feeling unsure of the other’s intent, but eventually Neah shot Lavi a look as the sight of his bandaged side and the bruises dotted across his body came into view.

“As always, you’ve disappointed me as soon as I’ve woken up.” Lavi scowled over at him, confused, and Neah simply sighed dramatically. “I would’ve loved to watch someone beat the shit out of you, I miss out on all the fun.”

Lavi scowled. “Oi, gettin’ the shit beaten out of myself got us enough money to tide us over until we get to Germany you asshole.”

Neah paused before giving a winning smile. “Well, at least you’re good for something. Maybe you should get yourself beaten more often, if not just to keep me entertained.”

Lavi briefly considered throwing his nearby boot at Neah’s face but resisted, just about. He settled for an exasperated sigh, regretting it near-instantly as his bruised ribs twinged painfully in response, and fell back against the mattress beneath him with a whine.

“Man, I feel almost as bad as when I sparred with Lena.”

Neah frowned. “Who’s ‘Lena’?”

Lavi propped himself up with a hand and grinned over at his companion. “She’s an Exorcist at the Order, probably the strongest person I’ve ever met. She kicks _hard_ , you better hope we never run into her, otherwise you’re gonna be coughin’ up blood for a while.”

Neah raised an eyebrow in disbelief, memories of watching Tim’s recordings surfacing; a young woman, begging his host not to leave.

“You mean _her_? If it’s the person I’m thinking of all I have to hope for is her not crying all over me.”

Before he could continue speaking or even react, a boot hit Neah square in the face _hard_. When he pulled it away and prepared to throw it back, he noticed the furious expression on Lavi’s face and faltered. He was _livid_ , almost as full of anger as when Neah had kept mentioning Bookman to him. After a minute of tense silence, Neah threw the boot in Lavi’s general direction and muttered something under his breath, almost too quiet for Lavi to hear.

“Some Bookman you are.”

Lavi shot him a warning look, hands clenching into fists. Neah considered throwing another insult his way but the memory of his nose being broken came to mind, and he decided against it. He pushed himself up to his feet, stretching with a slight wince before walking around the room. He inspected it now that he was able to see it more clearly, allowing Lavi to get dressed without any undue awkwardness. After spending a few minutes glaring at the tacky wallpaper, he heard a quiet cough and had but a few seconds to turn and catch the coat thrown his way. He glared at his companion.

“A little more warning next time?”

Lavi smirked, tone mocking. “Aw, are your reflexes that shitty? Some scary Noah you are.”

Neah stuck out of his tongue. “Cut me some slack, this isn’t my body. You try having to get used to using a body that’s completely different to the one you remember.”

Lavi paused before grinning. “Ya know, I think the mental image of you trippin’ over your own feet just made my morning. Thanks for that.”

Neah hissed. “ _Fuck you_.”

Lavi laughed in reply, picking up his bag from the corner of the room and making his way out the door. Neah followed him, expression set into one of almost childlike irritation. After a quick conversation with the landlady downstairs, during which Neah was silent and glared at whoever looked his way, they eventually stepped outside into dim sunlight, greeted by a chill late-autumn morning.

The city was quiet, slowly awakening under the light of the sun. The rooftops were alight with gold, wisps of smoke and steam from nearby houses the only thing obscuring the clear blue sky above their heads. The nearby call of seabirds and the horns of faraway river boats broke what would have been an unnatural silence, and without the bustle of people on the city’s cobblestoned streets it was peaceful, devoid of life in a way that was a source of comfort and not unease. Neah took a moment to watch his breaths billow out before him, pale wisps against his surroundings, and gave a contented hum.

“It’s nice.”

His voice was quiet, thoughtful even; it was so at odds with how he usually spoke. Lavi turned his head towards him and looked at him carefully, noticing the calm expression on Neah’s face, the way he looked up at his breaths drifting into nothingness with something akin to reverence.

“What is?”

Neah either appeared not to have heard him, or had deliberately ignored him, and turned to smirk in his direction as if Lavi had not spoken.

“You know, I was gonna bash your head in for getting us drunk, but since I don’t feel like I haven’t eaten in months, I’m gonna let you off just this once.”

Lavi paused, thrown by Neah’s sudden change in countenance, before sighing and shaking his head, lips pulled up into the smallest of smiles.

“Thank the gods for small mercies.” He took a few steps forward before turning towards his companion, irritated. “Also, you were the one who found the alcohol, don’t blame me for your lack of self-control.”

Neah stuck out his tongue in reply, walking ahead and ignoring Lavi’s remarks with a careless disregard that irritated him. Regardless, there was something different about their interactions, something that made Lavi feel less resentful of Neah’s presence than before.

Neah also noticed the difference and wondered exactly why he felt more inclined to put up with Lavi’s company now that he had reawakened. Memories of the last night he had spent with him came to mind in bits and pieces, a haze of disjointed conversation and conflicting emotion. He didn’t remember it as well as he wanted to, but he knew he had angered Lavi enough to see either a different side to him or another person entirely, if that was even possible, and was reminded strongly of someone he used to know.

As Lavi walked ahead of him, hands interlaced behind his neck, Neah watched him with a thoughtful gaze. What he really felt about the person he’d been stuck with… he hadn’t particularly thought about it before. He’d categorised Lavi as a semi-necessary annoyance, at least until he had the chance to take over his host and carry on with his plans unhindered, but he had tolerated Lavi’s presence far better than he thought he would. It was a strange feeling, one that felt oddly familiar to him. After a few moments he realised, rather suddenly, the reason why.

It was the same feeling he had gotten from someone else, a person he had grown to trust despite everything he stood by; the previous Bookman apprentice. Things had been chaotic before Neah had died; it had been a mess of fighting and running until he and his brother were sick of it. But they had not been alone. The apprentice had helped them, abandoned his duty to aid them in their goals, protected and guided them when things seemed hopeless. He and Lavi were alike in more ways than Neah felt comfortable with, but it reassured him nonetheless. He knew now why he’d treated Lavi’s injuries, why he didn’t leave him behind when he had the opportunity to. He was still an annoyance to him, yes, but he’d felt the same way about the previous apprentice also. It was a strange combination of both resigned acceptance and vehement irritation, the need to have either of them in his company. But the way the two of them held themselves was at least bearable enough to Neah that he could resist the urge to strangle them, and neither of them had been useless to him, though Lavi still had a long, _long_ way to go before he proved himself in that regard.

The previous apprentice had done a lot for Neah, more than he probably ever realised or let on. Humans were fickle, prone to betrayal and abandonment if it suited their purposes. But the Bookman Clan raised their members in a way that both amused and somewhat disturbed Neah; they did not choose sides, they stood by and watched the world burn and did nothing more than record that it had happened. It bred a curious form of apathy that, when broken, led to a severe shift in the world view they harboured. The previous apprentice had left behind his duty in favour of helping him, and Neah remembered the way he threw himself into whatever he could to forget that mere fact. The words he had spoken to him the night he abandoned his life as a Bookman had always stuck with him; he had been forced to realise that he had an effect on people, and that if someone was persistent enough about helping him, he was an idiot for turning them down.

The thought that he may end up having taken away two potential Bookmen from the Clan brought a smile to Neah’s features; how ironic that he, who cared very little for followers or support, ended up being some strange kind of target for people who needed purpose. It annoyed him, and he would much rather go about his day without a trail of people following him and needing him to give their life meaning, and he had learned the hard way that no-one could be trusted. But he had also learned just as painfully that he could not do what he needed to do alone; his death was proof enough that he alone would not be enough to take down the Millennium Earl. Other people would have to serve as his stepping stones, and the sooner he accepted that and pushed aside the paranoia his death had given him, the quicker he could achieve his aims and end this pointless war.

The only thing in his way was his host.

“Ya know, it’s kinda rude to ignore someone when they’re talkin’.”

Neah snapped out of his thoughts, attention brought back to reality as Lavi’s hand waved in front of his face. He pushed his hand away with a scowl, walking ahead with a huff.

“It’s also rude to interrupt someone while they’re thinking, so fuck off.”

Lavi raised an eyebrow. “What, you continuing to plot world domination or something?”

“Plotting your murder, actually.” He turned to Lavi with an innocent smile. “So, how would you like to die? Strangulation? Drowning? Bleeding to death?”

Lavi tutted. “You’re really uninventive, at least pick an interestin’ way for me to die.”

Neah scowled. “Pick your own way to die then, idiot.”

Lavi paused before giving a serene smile. “I’d like to die bein’ chased off a cliff by beautiful people.”

Neah felt his lips twitch into something resembling a smile, though he refused to admit it. “I have… several questions, but if it means you’re dead then I don’t really care.”

Lavi shook his head with a quiet laugh, turning his attention back to his surroundings. He headed down a nearby side street before Neah could lead them out of the city, taking them in the general direction of the market square. The money he had obtained from the fight would give them enough supplies to get food for close to a week, if they rationed it well enough. Lavi doubted it would last them that long, though he wanted to be optimistic about it. Allen had gotten used to limiting his foot intake, even if he complained about it a lot, but despite the two of them sharing the same insatiable appetite, Neah was far less accustomed to it than Allen was. It meant Neah was far more likely to eat through all of their reserves quicker than Allen would, and as an added downside it was also a lot harder to tell Neah to stop eating - or to stop doing anything for that matter - and often resulted in Neah eating whatever they had left out of spite, even if it would put him in just as bad a position as it did Lavi.

But things did seem different between them, though Lavi couldn’t quite explain the reasons why, leaving him more hopeful about the days to come than he would’ve been before they’d reached Mâcon. Something had changed, though whether it was for the better or not was another thing entirely, but it seemed that for the moment Neah was more inclined to be agreeable and less of an annoyance to him. The guilt that had settled itself upon Lavi’s shoulders since Allen had awoken had diminished, leaving him less conflicted about how he viewed and acted with Neah while Allen was gone. He was a necessary annoyance, but he didn’t resent it as strongly as he had done even days beforehand. He was starting to become accustomed to Neah’s presence despite all his misgivings, and he felt enough at ease in his presence that travelling with him was not a constant source of stress for him any longer.

He knew, undoubtedly, that Neah’s good mood was probably due to how well-fed he was, and as soon as they returned to sleeping in damp stables and living off of whatever they could scrounge up from their surroundings, Neah would be far more irritating. But Lavi would be a hypocrite if he said he was any different; being without proper food or rest or comfort was stressful for anyone. He had spent most of his life living as a nomad, but he and Bookman rarely ever starved or continuously slept in poor conditions, and from what he knew of Allen’s upbringing, he had been able to use charm and bribery to get access to food and shelter. Neah, too, was probably used to it in some capacity, since he and Mana had spent a lot of time on the run, but Lavi knew very little about his past apart from what Cross had shared with Allen all those long months ago.

Now it was _his_ turn to be pulled away from his thoughts, with a kick to the shins far more forceful than was necessary. With a scowl at his companion, Lavi drew away from his mind and focused on buying what he needed, and getting them out of the city before anyone caught onto their trail. They had spent too long in one place, and he was uncomfortably aware of that fact as he stood in the market place, surrounded by more and more people as the morning wore on. Neah appeared to have noticed the same thing, and was watching the crowd warily as Lavi exchanged coins for food. For a while they seemed in the clear, but a movement against the push of the crowd alerted his attention; people cloaked in black, moving with purpose.

Initially, he thought they were heading for him, but it seemed they had another target; Akuma.

Neah’s left eye activated with a flourish of moving cogs, and with a curse he yanked Lavi away from the stall owner he was bartering with and into a nearby alleyway, shielded from the light of the sun by towering walls on either side. Lavi turned to him with a scowl, a question already leaving his lips. Neah shoved his hand over his mouth with a shake of his head and a warning look, gesturing outside of the alleyway just before an explosion answered Lavi’s unspoken question for him. The sounds of people screaming and the crash of debris against the ground filled the air, followed by the all too familiar sound of Akuma bullets firing. Lavi pulled down Neah’s hand and turned to him, speaking as quietly as he could to be heard.

“How many?”

Neah took a moment to look around, cogs whirring around his left eye. He cursed under his breath.

“A fuck ton of the usual bastards in the city, and some of those bigger guys forming outside of it. We stayed here too long.”

“I know, I told Allen it was a bad idea, but…” Lavi ran a hand through his hair with a sigh “… well, it doesn’t matter now. What’s the plan?”

Neah scowled at him. “What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan’? We leg it out of here before those Exorcists spot us!”

“Wait, the Order is here?!”

Lavi immediately edged as close to the exit of the alleyway as he dared, gaze darting from place-to-place, trying to locate black uniforms amongst the smoke and dust. After a few moments he spotted a spherical force field at the east exit of the market; it looked stronger than the Order’s barriers, which meant Miranda was present and protecting something, or someone. The sight of a rather strange creature took out a Level Three by the river, disintegrating its metallic body and letting its dust float over the water confirmed what Miranda was protecting; Miranda was protecting Timothy’s unconscious body while he used his possession ability. For a while it seemed that no-one else was present, though Lavi knew that both a General and another Exorcist would need to be there to help Timothy fight, according to the Order’s usual rules. He turned to Neah and attempted to speak, but the familiar sound of someone’s voice yelling commands from nearby cut him off. His gaze turned sharply upwards, and stood atop a rooftop across from him was a person he’d missed far more than he’d realised.

“ _Krorykins!_ ”

Neah scowled over at Lavi, squinting at the delighted expression on his face. “Who the fuck is ‘krorykins’? What is it with you and your stupid nicknames?” Lavi didn’t answer, almost moved to tears at the sight of his friend and previous comrade. Neah shook him by the shoulders. “Oi, this isn’t the time to get emotional. We need to leave.”

He faltered as Lavi’s expression changed to one of confliction, and a pang of both fear and paranoia crept up on Neah with sickening unease. It was the first time the Order had crossed both their paths, and the realisation that Neah was outnumbered if Lavi attempted to betray him to the other Exorcists left him feeling on edge, like he was slowly being shoved into a corner. He took a step backwards, deeper into the alleyway. Lavi did not notice, attention utterly focused on the fight before him and his own self-doubt.

A golden opportunity had presented itself, and Neah was going to take it.

Without a moment’s hesitation he slowly picked up the duffel bag Lavi had left a metre or so into the alleyway and took steady steps away from him, obscured by shadow the further in he went. As soon as he felt it was safe to do so he turned and ran, footsteps heavy against the stone beneath him. The Akuma were focused on the Exorcists in the market square for the most part, though the massive 3.5 Akuma waiting outside of the city was going to be a problem. Neah ducked in-and-out of alleyways, caring not who saw him as he made his way towards the northern exit of the city.

He felt no guilt for running, knowing that between the hesitant trust he’d developed for his companion and the deep-set paranoia that had kept him alive, he would always choose the latter. And, without Lavi as an added hindrance, getting rid of Allen would be all the easier once his host had no-one to support him.

The sight of an Akuma soul out of the corner of his eye abruptly drew him away from his thoughts, and he quickly vaulted over a nearby low wall and hid behind it, panting for breath. It was a lone Level One; nothing to worry about, but drawing its attention would be unwise. He raised his right hand, focusing on the weak bond he had with the dark matter residing inside of him. The Akuma turned to face him, raising its guns to fire, but exploded into a mess of metallic debris before it could do anything. Neah watched its soul disintegrate, sickened by it; something about it always made him feel incredibly uncomfortable, though he had no idea why. He shook his head, ignoring the nausea rising inside of him, and began running once more, knowing that the explosion would attract too much undue attention towards him.

Akuma and Noah alike were drawn to his presence due to his awakening Noah memory, which meant he could not hide whether he wanted to or not; his only option was to get out of the city as quickly as he could, and hope that the Exorcists were enough of a distraction to let him make his escape unhindered. It relied far too much on luck; if he had his powers back in their entirety none of this would be a problem. He would finally be able to fight, be able to hold his own against what was chasing him. But in the state he was in, all he could do was cause far too limited a number of Akuma to self-destruct. Even that was exhausting beyond belief to do, and he was reminded all too painfully that on his own he was little threat to the non-human beings hunting him down.

Memories he wished he could forget crept up on him; a building sense of inevitability, knowing that he was running out of time, that _Mana_ was running out of time. It had all been pointless, there was always so much more fighting to still be done, but he was so exhausted, he couldn’t keep going. Neah clenched his fists as he continued running, shaking his head and denying himself the chance to get lost in that all too familiar feeling of hopeless dread.

He’d been given his second chance, and he _refused_ to waste it by succumbing to the same things that had caused him to lose his life before.

The sight of the city’s northern gate drew his attention back to his surroundings, and with a sigh of relief he saw that it was open. A carriage was blocking the way out, and a man was stood arguing with a guard as an increasing number of panicked people built up behind them. A slope downwards towards the gate extended before him, and with a deep breath he took off at a run, making his way downhill towards freedom. He weaved in-and-out of the crowd of people surrounding the gate, and with graceful movements pulled himself atop the carriage and shoved the man sat at the front out of the way. The man turned his attention away from the guard and began to yell, but Neah was already gone, ducking away from the horse now panicking because of his sudden presence, and taking off at a run towards open country. The crowd, outraged by the fact that he’d managed to get away while they were trapped, forced the gates open wider despite the guard’s protests and followed his lead, upturning the carriage in the process.

They soon stopped as the sight of what they could only call a monster came into view.

As they froze and debated re-entering the city, feeling rather like they had not escaped danger whatsoever by leaving, Neah cursed loudly. The 3.5 Akuma that was causing the people behind him to panic, perched atop a nearby hillside, was not what concerned him; the glint of gold in the distance and a strong presence of Innocence meant a General, and he did _not_ want to deal with them right now. He didn’t want to deal with either of them, of course, but a General would be a lot harder to run away from, especially if the other Exorcists were contacted. On instinct, he almost turned to look over his shoulder and demand that Lavi get them out of this mess before realising he was alone. He sighed heavily, rubbing at his temples with his right hand.

Despite getting away from his unwanted company, and escaping the potential risk of being turned in to the Order, the knowledge that he was in a bind and without help left a bitter taste in Neah’s mouth.

* * *

Lavi was _not_ happy.

It had taken him a few minutes to realise Neah was gone and when he realised, regardless of the need to be hidden and silent, he let out a rather loud - and rather colourful - set of curses and buried his head in his hands. The last thing he needed while the city descended into chaos was Neah deciding _now_ was the time to up and run, abandoning him in the process. Despite knowing exactly why he’d done it without even needing to ask, and that it was only a matter of time before Neah pushed his luck, he couldn’t help but feel a rising sense of both anger and fear well up within him. He turned away from the fight ensuing in the market place and took off at a run, turning his back on the people he had once called friends, knowing that his chance to return to the Order was soon to be lost.

His duty towards the Bookman Clan conflicted with his heart - the heart he should not have, the heart he should _never_ have had - and both feelings clashed horribly with the attachment he had formed towards helping both Allen and Neah. Unable to commit himself to the future he had signed his life away to, or the role he had been living as nothing more than a means to an end, the thought that without his two companions he would be without any kind of purpose frightened him. Wide-eyed, running with desperation fuelling his movements, the suffocating fear that had been torturing him since he had escaped the Noah rose up so strongly Lavi felt trapped by it; he had to find Neah and he had to find him _now_.

As he crossed a busy main road and weaved between horse-drawn carriages, ignoring the angered shouts that followed in his wake, he told himself that he had to find Neah for Allen’s sake, that without any kind of support he may so easily give in to the fear of erasure. He felt conflicted about helping the both of them, but he felt less conflicted about helping Allen than he did Neah. He cast away all notions of duty, ignored the quiet voice from Junior in the back of their mind that told him he was doing this for his own sake, regardless of the comforting lies he told himself, and focused on nothing more than his feet hitting ground, his lungs filling with oxygen, the burning purpose coursing through him. A sharp pain from his ribs made him flinch, exacerbated by the stitch he’d given himself with the sudden exercise, and it was difficult to ignore the pain in his right leg as he put one foot before the other. But he had to keep going, regardless of how much it hurt.

He calmed himself as much as he could, feeling Junior’s presence drift towards the forefront of their mind, allowing him to distance himself from the cycle of suffocating thoughts coursing through him. He focused on his surroundings without emotion, thinking of nothing but the task of finding Neah before he slipped through his fingers, gaze trailing from nearby rooftops to side streets to the sight of the city’s outer borders as the street started heading downhill. Despite leaving the marketplace behind, the sound of fighting was getting increasingly louder; the Akuma were moving, as if drawn somewhere else.

Undoubtedly, they were drawn to the Noah in their midst.

Keeping his attention focused on the direction the battle was heading, raising his hood up in case the other Exorcists suddenly dropped in on him - not that it would disguise his presence for all that long, considering the Innocence strapped to his thigh - Lavi continued to run, ignoring the rest his body was demanding of him. He saw a gate come into view on the horizon and made a beeline towards it, ignoring everything else around him. An upturned carriage, with a rather disgruntled man and horse stood beside it, blocked the exit out of the city, but without any hesitation he vaulted over it and found himself surrounded by grasslands desecrated by clothes and dust; more casualties in a war with far too many deaths to account for.

Cursing under his breath, he drew his attention away from the remains of what had once been living breathing people - once of flesh and blood, now nothing more than dust - focusing on the movement of nearby Akuma heading towards a hilltop on the horizon. He knew he had a very small window by which to find Neah and get him out before the Exorcists realised what was going on, but he wished to avoid the Order knowing that Neah had assistance, especially from a member of the Bookman Clan no less.

Lavi came to a standstill, looking around with a careful gaze, breathing heavily, trying to locate the nearest places that Neah could have taken cover. There was a wooded area to the northwest, but it required crossing open country for a length of time that was in all likelihood not worth the risk. Apart from re-entering the city there were no other places to hide, though he had realised rather quickly that there was never anywhere to hide for both Neah and Allen; Akuma and Noah would be drawn to them no matter where they were. The Akuma leaving the city were heading en masse towards the hilltop on the horizon, drawn to something… or _someone_.

Without a word Junior let his presence subside, leaving an unspoken warning to Lavi to not be seen, and with a deep breath Lavi activated his Innocence and extended it forward, knowing he had very little time to find Neah before someone else did, unless they had already found him; the thought of it made his stomach turn. He resolutely ignored it - he _had_ to - and with gritted teeth he sped towards the concentration of Akuma, following the curve of the hillside to give him some cover. Once it seemed safe to do so, he leapt off of his Innocence, returning it to its normal size before crouching down and making his way as close to the top of the hill as he dared. He raised his head over the top and abruptly ducked back down; Klaud Nine was stood atop the remains of a 3.5 Akuma, a small monkey made of Innocence looking this way and that from her shoulder.

They were facing away from where he’d exited the city, focused on a location further east; Lavi gave a silent sigh of relief. Heart jackhammering against his ribs, aggravating his bruised ribs, Lavi waited as long as he could before slowly sliding down the hill, trying to place where the Akuma from the city centre had been heading to. After spending a minute or so looking around, anxiety rising, he heard more than saw the Akuma a mile or so east of the hill; the thunk of bullets hitting earth, the sound of bricks smashing. Regardless of how careful he was, he would be seen by Klaud if he dared to move from the cover of the hillside; he’d have to think of a way to distract her attention away from him, or lower any visibility she or her Innocence had.

Plan forming in his mind, Lavi carefully extended his Innocence and went as far away from the hill as he could, making sure to avoid Klaud’s line of sight, and headed towards the patch of trees he had noticed earlier. As soon as he entered the shadowy embrace of the small wood he hit ground and immediately raised a finger upwards, calling forth a Wood seal. It glowed brightly beneath his feet, forming a pillar of light towards the sky. He focused on the bond he held with his Innocence, closing his eye and picturing the sound of thunder, the smell of wet earth.

It was a risky plan, he knew; both Krory and Miranda had seen him use the seal before, and if they thought long and hard enough, or asked someone at the Order about it, they would undoubtedly know Lavi had been there. It would prevent him from ever going back, at least out of choice, but he had made his decision and he could not go back; if he did not do this, both Allen and Neah’s chance of escaping would only get slimmer.

The sky darkened above him, Mother Nature answering the call of his Innocence. And as a clap of thunder burst overhead and rain began to pour from the heavens, Lavi lowered his hand, opened his eye, and extended his Innocence to head as fast as he could towards where he hoped Neah would be.

Rain hit his skin so hard it was painful, obscuring his vision until he could barely see more than a metre in front of him. It would make finding Neah all the harder, but it also meant he would not be seen and would make escaping easier than under the natural clear skies from before. Using his sense of hearing over sight, ignoring the sound of rain hitting earth and the crash of thunder and lightning from above, he focused on any other sounds he could hear, following the intuition of his Innocence and hoping it would lead him to the right place.

Without any warning, Lavi felt himself crash into something hard, flinging him off his Innocence and onto the wet ground. Wheezing, he pulled himself up and found himself face-to-face with a confused and rather annoyed Level Three wondering what had hit it. He raised his hammer and hit it as hard as he could with an Air seal, adding to his hammer’s momentum and flinging the Akuma as far away from him as possible.

Lavi turned and quickly gauged his surroundings, eye darting this way and that, seeing nothing but vague darkened shadows amongst the rain. For a moment he heard nothing, felt nothing, and fear gripped hold of him so tightly he couldn’t breathe. But a familiar voice, full of anger and desperation, filtered through the rain and thunder and without a moment’s thought he ran towards the source of it. A sudden explosion a few metres away made his head hurt, dulling his hearing down until he could hear nothing beyond his own heartbeat and a high pitched ringing. He kept running, heading straight towards the remains of a now-destroyed Akuma. Lightning flashed, giving him a brief moment of visibility; a Level Four, raising its guns to fire, cloaked figures fighting off Level Threes in the distance, white hair and a tattered coat. With a sharp intake of breath, Lavi reached out and grabbed hold of fabric, heard a voice call out in alarm, and sent the both of them hurtling out of the line of fire and as far away as he could possibly take them.

* * *

Rain, falling down on him in an endless cacophony of noise, fleeing sightless and without guidance; an all-abiding fear held onto Lavi’s heart until it was consuming him. He felt disorientated, gripped by panic, but a hand grabbing onto his shoulder so tightly it hurt grounded him until he realised where he was, the reason he was there. Lavi forced his Innocence to stop, collapsing off of its hilt and onto the muddy ground with heavy breaths. The sound of someone else hitting the ground drew him away from emotion, away from the adrenaline flooding through his veins, and with unsteady footsteps Lavi raised himself up and walked forwards to sit down beside the person in his company.

Minutes passed, an otherwise tense silence broken by the sound of the rain and faraway thunder. The storm eventually subsided, no longer answering the call of Lavi’s Innocence, and as darkened clouds began to part and the world brightened around them, Lavi gave an audible sigh of relief that Neah was lying down in front of him, shivering face-down in the mud, white hair plastered to his skin.

“Don’t you… ever do that again… you moron.”

Lavi’s voice was hoarse, tinged with an emotion he could not name. Neah pushed himself up and raised his head to look up at him. Lavi met his gaze and held it, gripped so tightly by a feeling of both fear and relief and everything he could not speak of, not to the person before him, that he could scarcely breathe. After a few seconds of tense silence, Neah’s eyes fluttered closed and he flopped onto his back, rubbing at his face with a quiet groan.

“I could say the same thing to you. What the fuck were you thinking? I couldn’t see a goddamn thing with all that rain.”

Lavi brought his fist down lightly atop Neah’s forehead. “If I hadn’t done that we both would’ve been seen, so shut up. You’re the one who attracted an entire horde of Akuma out of the city.”

Neah lowered his hands and glared up at him, but there was relief amongst the anger in his gaze. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his right shoulder with a pained expression, and looked around him blearily. All he could see was grass and mud with a few trees lining the horizon; the city was nowhere to be seen. Lavi, too, looked around him with a weary expression, noticing with much relief that there was no-one else in sight.

For a moment they both remained silent, neither knowing what to say or how to voice what they were feeling. Neah was angry, far more at himself and the situation he’d been forced into by his host than anyone else, and he felt both relieved and extremely uncomfortable that Lavi had found him so quickly. He wanted to insult his companion or make some kind of joke about something, _anything_ , to break the tension that had descended upon them. He wanted to leave, to run as far away as he could, but he also wanted to remain where he was and accept the company he’d been given once more. It left him tense and uncertain, and the building look of anger in Lavi’s expression was something he felt too battle-worn to deal with at that moment.

“Where’s my bag?”

Neah faltered, thrown by the sudden question. “Huh?”

Lavi stood, looking him dead in the eye with an expression that left Neah frozen to the spot.

“I asked where my bag, with all the supplies I spent all our money on as well as our only way of knowing where the fuck we are, is at this moment.” Neah stood and backed away slowly. Lavi stepped forward, anger rising. “You took it before you ran, didn’t you? So _where is it_?”

Neah raised his hands to defend himself, feeling his own anger mount with each step forward Lavi took towards him.

“An Akuma ripped the strap and I lost it when you decided that making a storm happen would be a good fucking idea. So it’s your -”

Lavi’s eye flashed dangerously. “If you say it’s my fault I’m going to -” he paused and took a deep breath in-and-out, coming to a standstill and rubbing at his temples. “You know what? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Without a single word he holstered his Innocence, ran his hands through his sodden hair with a conflicted expression, and began to walk. Neah faltered for a moment, finding himself in two places at once - _take responsibility for your own actions_ \- unable to move or speak, gripped by indecision and remembrance of another man, another apprentice who had cast aside his duty for him - _you either want help or you don’t, make your choice_ \- before he raised his voice and called out to him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Lavi stopped and turned towards him. “Do what?”

Neah sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated expression; he _hated_ doing this.

“You could’ve just fucked off and gone back to the Order. I wouldn’t have been able to take on all those Akuma and the Exorcists too, and you could’ve just stood there and let it happen. So -”

Lavi paused and then he laughed, looking at Neah with disbelief tinging his words. “Is that your attempt at an apology after running off, getting yourself in a fight, and losing all our supplies?”

Neah faltered for a moment before scowling and muttering under his breath. “Take it or leave it.”

Lavi shook his head, utterly bewildered by what had just happened, and sat down in the mud with an audible sigh.

“You know, you’re one of the most annoyin’ and indecisive people I’ve ever met. You either wanna leave and get yourself killed in a stupid pointless attempt at provin’ you’re not someone to mess with, which I mean _come on_ you rose from the grave just to take out the Earl, as if that isn’t scary enough.”

Neah found himself laughing despite everything. He sat down and joined Lavi in the mud, burying his head in his hands. “You try spending months being hunted down and then literally _dying_ , before waking up and realising everything you planned had gone completely fucking wrong. Don’t blame me for being paranoid.”

“I don’t.”

There was a surprising amount of understanding in Lavi’s voice, and it confused Neah to hear it. He looked over at him, eyes narrowed, before sighing and shaking his head.

“You don’t make any sense either, you realise that right? You act like you’re doing this because that old man told you to when really you’re just doing this because -”

“Yeah, well, we’re both doing this for our own selfish reasons aren’t we? Back off.”

A heavy silence descended upon them. After a while, Neah pushed himself up and stood. As Lavi raised his head to look up at him he met his gaze and held it.

“You know, I think I prefer it like that.” Lavi raised an eyebrow and Neah gave a winning smile. “You’re just a selfish bastard who needs purpose just like all those other pathetic people who insisted on following me around.”

Lavi growled. “ _Oi_.”

“I’m right though, aren’t I? It’s better than you having some weird convoluted sense of duty, or trying to save your ‘friend’.” Neah raised his fingers to form quotation marks with a look of disgust, and Lavi glared up at him. “You just wanna feel like you’re not a waste of space, and I mean if you stick around, at least it means I get to poke fun at you for it.”

Lavi squinted up at him in disbelief. “So you’re not gonna run off and get yourself killed after I saved your ass _yet again_?”

Neah scowled. “I wasn’t gonna get myself killed, fuck off. If you were gonna turn me into the Order, I had to do something, didn’t I?”

Lavi sighed heavily. “I know, I know, shut up.” He forced himself to stand, stretching with a wince. “And just so you know, this isn’t just because I’m a ‘selfish bastard’. Now let’s get out of this place, before I change my mind.”

“Change your mind about what?”

Lavi grinned. “Beating you up until you can’t move.”

Neah started walking forward, looking over at Lavi with a raised eyebrow. “So not only did you make my host deal with a hangover, you’re gonna make him wake up like _that_? What a friend you are.”

Lavi walked behind him and shoved him to the side a little with a huff. “It’s got nothin’ to do with Allen, so fuck off. And if you had your own stupid body, I could beat you up without a problem. It’s your fault.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint but I can’t do that, so get used to not being able to beat me up, moron.”

“Maybe I’ll just find a way to beat you up with my brain, that’ll show ya.”

Neah squinted over at him. “… I think that’s the most stupid thing you’ve ever said, I’m actually surprised. You’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

“Hey, if Road can do it, why can’t I?”

“Because you’re not a goddamn Noah, now _shut up_.”

* * *

Trust was a strange thing to have gained after the events of that day.

After traipsing through the mud for hours, exhausted beyond measure, Lavi and Neah collapsed outside of the ruins of what was once a farmhouse, now derelict and abandoned by its previous owners. A nearby well let them clean themselves of most of the mud - and, in Neah’s case, blood - from themselves, leaving them cold and shivering but free of dirt. Although there was a risk of them being tailed by both the Order and Akuma, the risk of dying of pneumonia was higher, so Lavi lit a fire within the ruins of the building despite his concerns.

He and Neah sat, illuminated by firelight as the world darkened around them, enjoying the warmth the fire brought them in silence. The events that had transpired that day had left them both exhausted beyond measure, and without a single word, Neah shuffled away from the fire and fell asleep on the floor, huddled in his tattered coat. He seemed so small and unthreatening at that moment, so dissimilar to the person so many had grown to fear in recent months. Lavi felt a surprising amount of sympathy for him then, watching shadows flicker against Neah’s back as he fell asleep. He was one person against the world, so hell-bent on fulfilling his goals that everything fell by the wayside, even his own well-being. He was as bad as Allen was in that regard, refusing help; but it was out of paranoia instead of the fear of hurting others.

Lavi knew he would never be able to let his guard down around him; he was unpredictable, rapidly switching from the apathetic but agreeable companion, to someone very willing to do whatever it took to keep going along his chosen path. But in that moment, in a silence broken only by the crackle of burning wood, he knew a part of him genuinely wanted to help the person asleep across from him.

In so short a time Lavi had nearly lost his entire reason to keep going, his only way of ignoring what had burdened him since escaping from the Noah Family, and it seemed laughable that after Neah’s attempt at leaving him behind, he trusted him more than he did before. Perhaps it was because he’d been expecting it. Perhaps it was because Neah’s behaviour after treating his injuries had seemed so at odds with the cold ruthless demeanour he was wishing to give off, leaving Lavi unknowing of where exactly he stood with his companion. He did not, and probably would never, completely understand why Neah had accepted his help so willingly after rescuing him from what would certainly have led to his capture by either the Order or the Noah. Though, if it was a choice between semi-freedom in Lavi’s company and a complete lack of it - as well as a high risk of being killed by his captors - in the hands of the Black Order or the Noah Family, it seemed to be a choice based far more off of survival than of trust.

But, in a way, Lavi preferred it that way; Neah trusting him made him feel uncomfortable, uneasy, as if he was being manipulated in some way. A person with such a large amount of paranoia and trust issues would not accept help so willingly, especially from someone aligned with the Order in some manner or fashion. And yet, could Lavi call himself an Exorcist any longer? He had been given the opportunity to turn Neah in, to return to the Order and resume his role as both an Exorcist and recorder of history. He didn’t even understand his own reasons for choosing not to go back, though he knew with some amount of uneasiness that it had far more to do with his own selfish need to ignore the inevitable than anything else.

There was so much he did not understand, and he hated it.

With a shake of his head and a heavy sigh Lavi attempted to shut out his thoughts; a well-practised way of coping with what troubled him. With nothing to occupy him, he simply stared at the moon and the endless array of stars above his head, peering their way through a blanket of nightly cloud. It reminded him strongly of another night, one that had set him on a path he was steadily regretting more-and-more as time passed, and with a sombre expression Lavi reached inside of his shirt pocket for a tattered playing card. He lifted it up to the sky, the light of the moon illuminating the ace of spades he held in his hand, and remembered the words he had spoken to himself back then, aboard a ship taking him and his companions towards Edo. _A Bookman has no need for a heart_ \- those words still hurt, no matter how much he wished they didn’t. The confliction he had felt that night had remained with him ever since, making him doubt the path he had undertaken since childhood, and with his future as a Bookman hanging from so tenuous a thread it hurt more than it had ever done to think of it.

Lavi smiled bitterly to himself, knowing that no matter how hard he tried he could not ignore the thoughts plaguing him, and slumped against the stone wall behind him with a resigned sigh, lowering his hand and clutching the card held between his fingers tightly. Hours passed, night slowly heading towards early morning, and eventually the shuffle of fabric and a shift in breath signified that Neah - or would it be Allen now? - was awake.

Lavi pocketed the card he still held in his hand, opened his eye and looked across the now-diminished campfire at the way the person before him was moving. He had sat up, slowly, running a hand through his hair and yawning; Lavi knew instantly that it wasn’t Allen, for the way Neah held himself was far more relaxed, a sort of laid-back impoliteness that contrasted sharply with Allen’s careful demeanour.

Lavi cautiously straightened himself up against the wall he was leant against, and held his breath. When Neah spoke his voice was heavy and full of tiredness.

“… How long?”

Lavi raised an eyebrow. “A few hours, what were you expecting?”

Neah appeared not to have understood his response before he sighed heavily and fell back against the ground.

“So it’s still me, huh? Great… just great…”

“You really like leavin’ Allen with all the shitty situations, don’t ya?”

Neah looked up at him with a scowl. “Of course I do. It’s his punishment for putting me in this mess.”

They swiftly fell into silence, Neah waking himself up with slow stretches and deep yawns, Lavi watching him with a heavy-lidded eye and exhaustion in his gaze. After noticing the way Neah dealt with his left arm, the awkward way he moved it above his head to stretch and the disgust crossing his expression, Lavi found himself voicing a question he had wanted to ask since he had first started travelling with Neah.

“Ya know, I’ve been wonderin’ why you don’t just get rid of that left arm if it’s causin’ you so much trouble.”

Silence. Neah met his gaze and held it, eyes narrowed. “… Because I can’t.”

Lavi paused before shrugging. “Guess that’s for the best. You’d be in a bit of a shit situation if you tried.”

Neah scowled. “And why’s that?”

“Well I mean, there’s the obvious hole in Allen’s heart that his Innocence is -”

“ _What_?!”

Lavi faltered at the surprise and panic showing in Neah’s expression. “Wait, you didn’t know? One of the Noah did that to him a while back.”

Neah’s voice raised in pitch, clearly bothered by the information Lavi had given him. “How the fuck was I supposed to know about that? I’ve only got my own memories and whatever Tim showed me, if neither of us were there for that _particular encounter_ then I couldn’t have known!”

Lavi rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile working its way onto his features. “Well, uh, sorry ‘bout that. Guess you gotta find a way to get by without getting rid of that thing.”

Neah gave him an incredulous look before shaking his head and sighing, muttering under his breath about stupid Exorcists and his stupid unwanted family. As a somewhat tense silence descended upon them, Lavi spoke up again, too curious about the topic to let it go.

“Just wonderin’, why can’t you destroy it anyhow? I’ve seen ya take out Akuma just fine.”

Neah’s tone instantly became confrontational. “Wow, Bookman, you sure know how to talk to people huh? Why does everything have to be an interrogation with you guys?” Lavi gritted his teeth, fists clenched - don’t call me that don’t c _all me that_ \- “And the reason’s fairly obvious you dumbass, how am I meant to destroy something when I don’t have the power to do so yet?”

Lavi frowned. “I don’t get it. How can you make Akuma self-destruct but not be able to destroy Innocence?”

Neah gave him a wide smile. “Why, hoping I can get rid of yours for you?”

Lavi stiffened, visibly uncomfortable. “Don’t go there, and answer my question already.”

Neah hesitated for a moment before raising his left arm, expression difficult to make out.

“Akuma are made of the same thing I am, manipulating it to achieve what you want with it isn’t hard. But destroying something made of something else? That requires a little more than a bit of manipulation, doesn’t it?”

Lavi shrugged. “I guess.”

Neah paused for a moment before giving Lavi a sceptical look. “And I thought you’d know more about the Noah. Didn’t that old man tell you anything?”

“No, _he didn’t_.”

Lavi had spoken louder than he’d intended, the edge to his voice bothering him, and all Neah did was sit, and stare, and wait. Lavi sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking intently at the mud caked on his boots. Eventually he spoke, voice quiet.

“He didn’t… tell me anything. I didn’t know he was with the Noah Family before, or that there was someone before me.” Neah sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. “There was so much he didn’t… and now I don’t know what…”

“The old man’s dead, isn’t he.”

Lavi flinched painfully, hands clenched tightly into fists. He didn’t dare look up, not when his every breath was determined to choke him. Hearing those words when he had spent all that time trying to forget - that body, lying there, the sound of bones breaking echoing in his eardrums - sent his entire body shaking with fear and panic and every horrible thing he had been trying to forget. His entire body had burned and his blood writhed inside his veins and that tongue with those _eyes staring back at him_ \- he couldn’t breathe and his chest was constricting and he couldn’t stop shaking and - that dark ruin of a house and the ever growing moon and his body slumped against the grass in a pool of his own…

It took a long time for Lavi to calm down. Neah did nothing but sit and watch with narrowed eyes as his distressed companion counted under his breath. When Lavi had stopped shaking and could breathe once more, he rubbed his face tiredly with a hand and sighed.

“… Too soon.”

Neah raised an eyebrow at him. “I… see...”

The silence left Lavi on edge, but he was too tired to do anything more than stare at the floor, detached, body numb. He knew undoubtedly that Neah had obtained all the leverage he could ever want and need, and that if he wanted to he could break Lavi’s already shaky composure until he was reduced to a meaningless pile of disgusting human emotion. But, to his surprise, Neah simply sat in silence, waiting until Lavi was composed. And then he spoke, so quietly that Lavi barely managed to hear his words.

“I’m sorry.”

Lavi blinked a few times and stared over at him in disbelief. “… What?”

Neah’s eye twitched. “So you’re stupid and deaf, gotcha.” Lavi’s expression darkened and Neah gave a frustrated noise before continuing, visibly awkward. “I said I’m sorry for your, ah, loss. That’s what people are meant to say at times like this, right?”

Lavi laughed bitterly. “Hey, don’t expect me to know, I don’t understand people either.”

Neah rubbed the back of his head. “That makes two of us…”

An awkward silence descended upon them as Lavi smiled sadly and wrapped an arm around himself.

“I don’t get it at all… I’ve spent my entire life ignoring my emotions and I was doin’ so well, now look at me. It’s pathetic.”

Neah sighed. “But that is the curse of all human beings, isn’t it? To suffer and feel pain.”

Lavi shook his head, expression pained. “… I’m not…”

“Not what, a human being? Look in a mirror dumbass.” Neah’s voice was filled with anger and frustration, infuriated with Lavi’s perspective. “Your clan’s stupid attempt to ascend above the pit of filth called humanity was always a pointless exercise in intellectual authority. You should know that by now.”

Neah was met with a vicious glare, words directed at him with a mocking edge to them, instantly taken back to glass bottles and angered words and a person Lavi was not.

“Wow, where did you learn all those fancy words from? And to think I consider you an idiot.”

Neah growled, narrowing his eyes as the person before him did nothing but stare with a cold anger in his gaze, leaving him on edge. After a few moments, with a shake of his head, Lavi seemed… more himself as he spoke, resignation showing in his tone of voice.

“None of that changes the fact that I’ve spent my _entire life_ training to deny myself all that makes someone human, and now I have no clue how to handle any of this, not one bit.”

Neah made a disgusted noise, pinching the bridge of his nose with a scowl. “Ugh, you and _him_ are both the same, trying to act like you don’t feel anything like some cold emotionless robots. Get over yourselves.” Lavi looked up then, eye wide, and Neah stood, averting his gaze. “I’m going for a walk. If you’re still crying when I come back I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“I’m not crying you piece of -”

Neah ignored him and left, walking outside the ruins of the building that constituted their shelter for the night, leaving Lavi alone in darkness. He took a deep breath in, closed his eye, wrapped his arms around himself and let a shaky breath out, over and over, until his body was still and his hands stopped trembling.

When Neah returned Lavi was calm and composed, but far from alright. He looked up, stared blankly at him, and resumed staring at his boots and absentmindedly picking off dried mud, counting each flake as he went. He had reached 64 when Neah eventually spoke.

“Does my stupid host know about all this?”

Lavi faltered before looking away guiltily. “… Nah, don’t need him worryin’ about me. He’s got enough on his plate as it is.”

“You mean me, that is.” When Lavi refused to reply, Neah let out a frustrated sigh. “And were you telling the truth when you said you were ordered by Bookman to be here?”

Lavi laughed, bitterly. “You hadn’t figured that out by now? Of course I wasn’t. What were you expecting? Just you mentioning him caused all this -” he gestured to himself with a disgusted expression “- stupid bullshit. I had to say something other than the truth.”

“Did the Chur-”

“No, they didn’t. I’d have joined up with the guys at Mâcon if that was the case. I haven’t been at the Order since before we were all ordered on our separate missions and apprehended by the Noah Family, and that’s the truth.” Neah scowled and Lavi shrugged. “Hey, don’t give me that look. Bookmen may lie to protect their asses but they also tell the truth when it isn’t a hindrance to do so.”

Neah pointed an accusatory finger. “They also tell lies disguised as truths to protect their asses as well, don’t they?”

Lavi groaned, frustrated. “Fine, I’ll give you that one.”

Neah sighed heavily before speaking. “So, if that was a lie, what _is_ your reason for being here if Bookman and the Church didn’t order you?” He shrugged. “I mean I’ve already guessed, but hearing you admit it is good blackmail material.”

Lavi didn’t rise to meet Neah’s obvious attempt at riling him and a silence, heavy and full of tension, rapidly descended upon them. Lavi refused to look up, gaze fixed on his feet and the tiny flakes of mud littering the floor around them. He could feel Neah’s eyes on him and it made panic flutter deep within him until he felt sick from it, but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth and the lump in his throat was choking him and he didn’t know what to say or how to explain it at all and his mind was blank and devoid of all thought but one - _I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know_.

Neah sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated expression. “Fine, keep your secrets, Bookman -” Lavi’s stomach lurched and he felt sick “- but understand this: if you double cross me I _will_ kill you. In case that wasn’t obvious already.”

Lavi shook his head and laughed quietly to himself. “… Then why haven’t you already? Surely if there’s a risk of me betraying you it’s not worth keeping me alive.”

Neah was silent for a long time, watching the dark look in Lavi’s eye, the way he had drawn into himself. He contemplated his answer before smiling, gesturing with a hand as he spoke.

“Well, yeah, that may be true, but as I said before, you having your own selfish pathetic reasons to follow me is way better than you being some duty-bound idiot.” He paused before adding to his words, the slightest hint of gentleness showing in his voice. “Plus, that old man saved my ass so many times I’ve lost count, and if he deemed you worthy enough to be an apprentice then you’re worthy of at least _some_ of my trust, even if I think he’s an idiot for picking you of all people.”

Silence; Lavi couldn’t breathe, staring wide eyed at the Noah before him with his heart jackhammering in his chest until it _hurt_. After a while Neah sighed, ran a hand through his hair - a nervous gesture, it seemed - and lay down.

“Don’t get big-headed. You’re a nuisance and as soon as I don’t need you, you’re gone. But you’re at least -” Neah pulled a face “- _tolerable_ compared to other people.” He stretched, wincing and rubbing his shoulder before rolling away from Lavi. “I’m gonna sleep a while longer. Prove your worth, Bookman. Night.”

Silence, heavy and suffocating; Neah’s breaths quietened, and the ruins became still and devoid of nightly noises. When the feeling of shock finally left his body, Lavi slumped against the wall behind him and clutched at his chest, pained, voice breaking as he spoke too quiet for anyone but himself to hear.

“I’m not… worthy of anything…”


	8. Play Your Cards Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! Life's been very hectic for me, though I certainly didn't want to take a 10 month hiatus from posting this fic. I'm sorry for the long wait! As always, I hope you enjoy reading and let me know what you think with a comment.

The next morning arose quietly and sombrely with a grey dawn, the rising sun hidden by approaching rain clouds.

Lavi had kept watch all night, knowing sleep would be impossible after his talk with Neah. Despite this strange newfound trust, he still did not feel comfortable sleeping in his presence. As the sun began to peer its way above the ruin’s walls, Lavi watched as Neah stirred into wakefulness with a groan. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes sleepily, left arm limp and stiff by his side, and Lavi knew it to be Neah still. It was relieving, in a way, since he didn’t have the strength to explain the night before - never mind the events of the past day or so - to Allen.

“Rise and shine.”

Lavi’s voice was hoarse - an unwanted reminder of his sleepless night - but he tried his best to sound cheerful. Neah ignored him and stretched, joints clicking, before letting out a groan as his muscles twinged painfully in response. Lavi raised an eyebrow.

“You ain’t a morning person, are ya? At least you and the ‘sprout are the same on that count.”

Neah scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t test me, I will fight you and win…” he yawned, so deeply his jaw gave a loud _click_. “… Once I’ve woken up.”

Lavi grinned, his voice taking on a mocking tone. “Oh, I’m _so_ threatened.” Neah growled and took a menacing step forward. Lavi raised his hands defensively. “Hey, hey, I was joking. Plus, we should really get going. We can fight later, ‘kay?”

Sighing, Neah turned and picked up his and Allen’s worn and tattered coat, shrugging it on with clumsy gestures before making for the exit. Lavi debated poking fun at him yet again for his sleepiness, but considering Neah was in a bad mood he could lose his head, quite literally. He put on his coat and ever-present scarf, following Neah out of the ruins into bleak grey-tinged daylight.

The ground was damp from nightly rain, which Lavi had listened to as he sat and stared into the darkness, and their boots squelched beneath them as they walked. As they trudged through the mud, Lavi found himself looking over at Neah as he walked ahead of him. Neah had used Allen’s ribbon to tie his hair into a messy ponytail, and his shirt was unbuttoned and crinkled. Lavi couldn’t help but smile - Allen would never _dream_ of looking so dishevelled.

They were like complete opposites of each other, in speech and manner and appearance.

Lavi had spent a considerable amount of time with Neah, but he’d never properly observed him beyond particular personality quirks and trying to figure out his motives. In that moment, Lavi made an effort to observe and analyse Neah properly for the first time, more for a distraction than anything else.

He saw that, despite their differences, there were some things that were the same between Neah and Allen, though they would both hate to acknowledge it. They both had a stubborn tenacity towards life that meant they would rather die than give up what they had promised, and the idea of surrendering to someone else’s ideas was inconceivable. It was this similarity that both connected them and pitted them against each other, for neither of them were willing to back down when so much was at stake.

It seemed strange to Lavi that the two of them weren’t talking to one another, though he wasn’t surprised by it either. It was a standoff neither of them could win, and if mere exhaustion didn’t end it, nothing else would. But, he supposed, talking to one another would do nothing more than end things on ‘better’ terms.

Those who called themselves ‘Noah’ could not exist any other way but taking over the body of their host, and their hosts were doomed to be erased from existence when this happened. But something about this fact bothered Lavi, and it wasn’t just the thought of Allen disappearing someday, all his dazzling brightness faded, like a snuffed out candle flame.

If Neah was going to take over his host, it should have happened already. Months had passed since he had first awoken, and the war was moving at a fast pace towards an unknown end, and if Neah wished for _his_ end to occur he had to do something quickly. The longer he and Allen played tug-of-war over ownership of their currently shared body, the more likely Neah’s - and Allen’s - aims would never come to fruition.

And the only thing Lavi could think of that was keeping them at this stalemate was Allen’s Innocence; Crown Clown.

Lavi had never heard of a Noah having an accommodator as a host before. He had read through Bookman’s lengthy archives on the Black Order before the two of them had arrived there and had found nothing on the topic, so perhaps the Order had simply never encountered such a thing. Though, then again, considering how little Bookman had been willing to share on his knowledge of the Noah, perhaps Lavi was simply ignorant. Lavi did know that it normally took only a matter of days, at the very least a few weeks, for a Noah to take over their host. Neah had been sleeping inside of Allen for _years_ , and despite being able to control their shared body periodically, Neah had made no moves to completely erode his host.

There had to be a _reason_ why this had happened. Neah did not seem like the type of person to wait and twiddle his thumbs while the world crashed down over his head, and that reason could only be Innocence in Lavi’s mind. A power equal and opposite to that of the Noah… Innocence and dark matter inhabiting the same space would undoubtedly create a stalemate until either power was stronger than the other. Neah’s powers were unknown to everyone, even to the Bookmen - unless, again, that information had been withheld from Lavi intentionally - but Crown Clown was strong; it had withstood a lot of damage and still remained in existence.

The thought that so much had been kept from him left a bitter taste in Lavi’s mouth, and reminded him yet again that he was completely and utterly in the dark on the third side, Neah Campbell, the truth about the war; so many things that he should’ve been told before he could become Bookman. And, without this knowledge, or access to Bookman’s private records, he would remain unknowing of it all until he made a decision.

And, without this knowledge, he _couldn’t_ make a decision.

Committing to a path of isolation and separation, a life where he would exist separately from the rest of the world and simply watch it, hands stained with ink, heart long since buried in a hole in the ground and forgotten about - that future, which he had spent so long idolising and wanting, was now an uncertainty in his mind and he _hated_ it. Duty conflicted with emotion. He was torn between two very separate futures and he couldn’t choose between them. Despite telling himself it was never _supposed_ to be a choice, he felt unwilling to simply abandon his autonomy and accept one of these futures of his own volition.

Lavi knew that Junior felt a stronger connection to the idea of being a Bookman, simply due to a matter of identity, but he too felt indecisive and ill at ease. Lavi could feel those emotions and doubts sitting uncomfortably alongside his own fears, and it meant the very topic of their future left the both of them desperately trying to think about anything else.

If Bookman had told them to accept this role, they would have done it. They would have abandoned their heart with great pain and emotional torment, but they would have done it to uphold the tradition and duty of the Clan and make Bookman proud. But Bookman’s death was sudden, unexpected. Neither of them thought it would end so soon. Lavi would never forget the look on Bookman’s face when he died; shock, horror, _sadness_. It was not the face of someone who had died willingly, and Bookman hadn’t prepared Lavi for that eventuality whatsoever. It was a mistake, a fool’s mistake, and Lavi could not understand why Bookman hadn’t considered the risk of him being killed by the Noah. Their roles as Bookmen meant they were seen as important and valuable informants, but they were still Exorcists, they were still human; their status could only protect them so much. But, in a way, that’s what accidents were - unplanned, unexpected, something you couldn’t prepare yourself for. Yet no matter how much Lavi tried to rationalise it, he came out of it with nothing. All he felt was a growing sense of dread and uncertainty, and it was becoming too much to bear.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?”

Lavi was startled out of his thoughts and brought back to the present by a hand gripping his head tightly. Neah’s face, full of objection and irritation, loomed in front of him. Lavi gave a meek attempt at an apologetic smile.

“I’m, uh, sorry?”

“ _You better be_.”

Lavi gulped audibly and Neah let him go with a sigh, walking ahead and grumbling to himself. Rubbing his head, Lavi caught up with Neah and tried his best to placate him.

“I was, uh, kinda lost in my thoughts there. What were you sayin’ again?”

“I was _saying_ -” there was a violent edge to Neah’s voice and Lavi took a few steps back “- that we’re close to a town and we should get some food if we can.”

Lavi sighed. “We don’t have any money, dumbass. I already sold my Exorcist jacket when we were in Mâcon.”

“Then we’re going to have to earn some, aren’t we?”

Lavi glared at Neah, practically seething. “If someone hadn’t lost all our supplies, we wouldn’t be in this mess, would we?”

Neah turned towards him with an indignant expression, hands clenched into fists. “Well, sorry for being thrown into the middle of a storm that was, oh wait, _your fucking fault_. And what, you’d rather starve? We need supplies, and if you’d stop bitching about me losing your stupid bag we’d be on our way to that town already.”

Lavi pinched the bridge of his nose before looking up with an aggravated expression.

“My point is we’d better be careful with people around. The town looks isolated but -” Lavi pointed a finger at the distance, hovering over a line of dark grey that wound its way around the town “- _that’s_ a main road, and there’ll be a lot of people stoppin’ by this town for supplies and shelter, so it’ll be busy. It’s a perfect place for an ambush from pretty much anyone. Considerin’ the mess you put us in before, we gotta be more careful.”

“We don’t have a lot of choice, kid.”

Lavi gave an indignant noise. “Don’t call me that! You’re not older than me in the first place!”

Neah smirked. “I’ll call you whatever I want. I can add ‘little’ to it if you keep bitching at me about it.”

Lavi scowled. “No you can’t, you’re shorter than me! Wait…”

He faltered, stepping closer towards Neah and raising a hand above both their heads, pulling a face when he realised Neah was only an inch or so shorter.

“No, hang on… You _can’t_ be that tall.”

Neah pushed Lavi away with a grin, a flash of amusement showing in silver eyes. Lavi blinked, hand frozen in place mid-air, before muttering to himself about how it couldn’t be possible, the two of them _couldn’t_ have caught up to him that quickly. Any amusement Neah felt swiftly faded into irritation, and he aimed a kick at Lavi’s leg before sticking out his tongue.

“Oi! Stop drifting away in cloud cuckoo land and get your shit together.”

Lavi scowled as he followed behind Neah, but he was right; this was not the time for getting lost in one’s thoughts. As they headed down the hill leading to the town, he shoved all doubts and fears away and focused on the task ahead.

They had been without supplies for two days, leaving behind the ruined farmhouse and walking through open country without a single piece of civilisation in sight. This was the first urban area they had seen for miles, and they urgently needed food and a way of knowing where they were. Without Lavi’s map, it was impossible to tell what their location was, or if they were still heading in the right direction towards the Franco-German border. Until they could re-orientate themselves, it would be the next stop in their journey.

* * *

The commune Neah had spotted was larger than it had first appeared, much of its expanse obscured by trees. All the houses were built in a circular fashion around a central church with gothic spires and stained glass windows, roads of paved stone weaving around houses like rivers of molten rock. A sign posted at the commune’s outskirts stated it was called Montchanin, which meant they were off-track from where Lavi had been intending to lead them; he wouldn’t know for certain until he got his hands on a map, however.

As they entered the commune proper, Lavi soon became enraptured by each and every detail he came across - the colour of the bricks that each of the houses were made of, tiny plants growing in cracks in the road, the smell of food and smoke and the noise of people talking and walking and laughing and shouting. Compared to the silent isolation that had accompanied him since leaving Mâcon, all of this bustling activity was an overload to his senses, and despite his initial excitement - having something to focus on other than his troublesome emotions was very needed - it soon became too much and he felt exhausted from it all.

Neah, also, gained a headache as soon as he became surrounded by people, and looked more and more uncomfortable as they headed to the centre of the commune. Although he had suggested they go there, he was regretting it the more they walked. He had forgotten how loud and _irritating_ human beings were when they gathered in one place. It had been relatively quiet in Mâcon; he knew the time of day had played a part in that, but by the time the city started coming to life he was far more focused on not being captured to notice anything else. Neah missed quiet open pastures, where you could stand atop a tree branch and not see civilisation for miles around, endless fields of corn and barley and wheat and his brother calling to him from the ground far below. But that time was lost to him now, so he tried his best to ignore those feelings.

The smell of food soon became agony as both their stomachs grumbled, and the warm glow of candlelit inns called to their aching and weary feet. But before they could stop and find somewhere to stay, they had to obtain a way of paying for that shelter, and fast.

Lavi came to a standstill on the outskirts of a busy market square, turning towards Neah and speaking just above the noise of the people around him.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Neah looked over at him and shrugged. “Dunno.”

Lavi scowled. “What do you _mean_ , you don’t know? You were the one who suggested we come here! I thought you had a plan.”

“Nope.”

Lavi stared at Neah incredulously. “Can’t you, ya know, swap with Allen instead?”

Neah crossed his arms with a huff. “That brat spent the weeks before you came along starving himself and sleeping on the side of the road, like hell _he’d_ know what he’s doing. The only reason we’re both alive is because _I_ stole food and saved our asses from Akuma.”

“That’s because you’re making his life a living hell, he’d be fine if you just -”

“Just what, _Bookman_?”

Lavi winced. “Don’t call me that.”

Neah glared at him. “I’ll call you whatever I damn well fucking please, now would you just stop whining and _think of something_?”

“Fine, give me a break, jeez.”

Lavi stomped ahead, hands clenched into fists, quietly fuming and muttering under his breath. Days without food, the near-constant reminder that the supplies Neah had lost would have kept them going, as well as lack of sleep and troubled thoughts on Lavi’s part, had left the both of them on edge. Any trust and understanding the two of them had gained for each other had swiftly become overshadowed by their own frustrations, and it was exhausting.

It took a few minutes of aimless walking and counting of cobblestones beneath his feet before Lavi felt able to think clearly once again, and once his mind cleared he turned around to his now silent companion with a scowl.

“You any good at poker?”

Neah shrugged. “Never played it.”

Lavi sighed and rubbed at his temples. “Great. Any way you can, ya know, fuck off so Allen can make us some money?”

Neah poked Lavi’s forehead with a scowl. “No, I can’t just ‘fuck off’. This isn’t something I can control, idiot. Plus, what does poker have to do with anyth-”

Lavi cut in, shoving Neah’s hand away. “It doesn’t matter. _I’m_ gonna have to earn us some money, then. Follow me, say nothing, and so help me if you do anythin’ stupid I’m gonna hit you with my hammer.”

Neah glared but kept his mouth shut, following his silently fuming companion as they headed towards the side of the commune nearest the main road. Lavi took them away from the busy market square, knowing he was in no state to fight for money even if he wanted to. It left him little choice in what to do to garner supplies, but he had one other option that would work if he played his cards right, quite literally.

As they headed further and further away from the centre of the commune, Neah noticed the buildings became more dilapidated, and the safe-looking inns from before were replaced with seedy bars and dark alleys where suspicious eyes glared back at them. The sun began to set, and Neah barely resisted the urge to ask if Lavi knew what he was doing. Eventually they entered a dimly lit and shady-looking bar full of people with dark eyes, cloaked in malicious intent.

The air was so full of smoke that it was hard to see more than a few metres ahead, and each step caused wisps of smoke to burst upwards in sudden streams around their feet, rising up to the darkened ceiling above their heads. After peering through the smoke for a good few minutes, Lavi made a quiet noise of acknowledgement and pulled Neah towards a small rickety table in the far corner of the bar, where a group of undesirables glared at them from behind their playing cards.

“What do you want?” one of them asked, voice hoarse from years of smoking, evident from the still-lit cigarette held between his fingertips. Lavi simply smiled and pointed at their cards.

“I want in.”

The man with the cigarette raised an eyebrow. “What’ve you got to bet?”

Lavi grinned sheepishly. “Not got anythin’ to bet with.”

“What about that hammer there, strapped to your leg?”

An old man sat at the far end of the table pointed to Lavi’s Innocence. Everyone at the table turned to stare at him. Lavi faltered, raising his hands with a strained smile.

“Ah, I can’t bet that, it’s -”

The previous man chimed in, voice raised in irritation. “It’s what? If you haven’t got anything to bet, you can’t play.”

Lavi faltered, knowing if he mentioned ‘Innocence’ someone or other would hear it and their location could be revealed, and dealing with Crow or Noah at that moment could be disastrous. So, with fake bravado and trying hard to avoid thinking about the consequences, Lavi took out his hammer, activated it, and showed the weapon to the group with a smile.

“It’s, uh, a _magic_ hammer.”

The strangers stared back wordlessly, wide-eyed and all thinking no doubt of how much they could sell it for, before one of them made room for Lavi and let him sit down. Lavi placed his weapon back in its holster and sat down, with Neah stood behind him with his arms crossed, glaring at anyone who so much as glanced in his general direction. He strongly reminded Lavi of Kanda in that moment, and the thought of telling Allen this was so amusing he had to resist the urge to laugh. Neah leant down to his shoulder and whispered quietly in his ear.

“Won’t you fall or something like that if you lose that hammer?”

Lavi replied, deadpan. “Yep.”

Neah raised an eyebrow. “So, what will you do if you lose?”

“I’ll think of somethin’.”

“This is a bad idea.”

Lavi elbowed him in the stomach. “I know, now shut up and keep glarin’ at people.”

Lavi turned to smile up at him but it didn’t reach his eye. Behind his confident exterior, he was yelling at himself for getting them into such a stupid situation. Junior was equally as displeased with him, which wasn’t helping. He turned back to the table with a shaky grin, watching as a man in the far corner with dark hair and a scraggly beard - the dealer, it seemed - pushed 10 cards in front of him on the table, 5 facing downwards, 5 facing upwards, and also gave him a hand of 5 cards he could play with.

Lavi frowned before asking, “What’s the game?”

“Shithead.”

Lavi bristled. “Hey, I was just askin’. No need to be rude.”

The dealer laughed, shaking his head. “No, no, it’s literally called shithead.”

“Oh.”

The dealer grinned. “Alright newbie, listen up. Rules are -” he pointed at the cards in Lavi’s hand “- you play with those cards for most of the game. Put a card down on the face up deck in the middle, take another card from the face down deck, and play until that face down deck in the middle is gone.”

He gestured at a pile of face down cards in the middle of the table, and a small pile of face up cards beside it.

“You gotta put a card that’s higher than the one someone put before, but you don’t have to do that with all of them. 3’s are the shit cards, same with 4’s, 5’s, and 6’s. But 7’s are a glass card - it means the person next to play has to put down a card to beat the one _below_ your one. 8’s make the next person miss a go, 9’s mean the next person’s gotta play a card lower than 9, 10’s burn the deck, and jacks, queens, kings, and aces are the highest cards in the game. 2’s are the highest though ‘cause it resets the deck and can be placed on top of any card. Got that?”

Lavi blinked a few times, trying to take in all the information he was being given. “What happens if you can’t play the right card?”

“You pick up the entire face up deck and keep playing.”

Lavi nodded to indicate he understood. Neah simply stared, open-mouthed, hardly following. The dealer grinned, baring a set of yellow teeth, before continuing.

“Once the centre deck and your hand are gone you play with _those_ cards.” He gestured now to the 10 cards in front of Lavi. “You know what those 5 face-up ones are, and you play those first. But you’re not gonna know what the face down ones are gonna be, so you better be a lucky kid or you’re gonna lose that nice shiny weapon of yours.”

Everyone laughed and Lavi smiled, eye closed.

“So, you win once you’ve lost all your cards, right?”

The dealer nodded and Lavi opened his eye, met the gaze of each of the 5 other players, and took a deep breath before putting on his best mask of confidence and grinned.

“Fine, let’s go.”

The game was fast-paced and tense, and even after having it explained and watching the others play Neah had no idea what was going on except it seemed like Lavi wasn’t doing too badly. After getting used to the rules and making a few rookie mistakes, Lavi was tactically getting rid of low cards and saving high cards for when it counted, but not _too_ late as he soon found out when one of the players was faced with a 9 and all he had were high cards. He looked less than happy when he had to pick up a rather hefty pile of cards from the middle.

A hooded player from the corner got down to his face down cards first, and the mood of the game instantly shifted to a tension so heavy it was hard to breathe. But, luckily for them, he had a _very_ bad set of cards and soon had to pick up enough cards to give the rest of the players a chance to win. Lavi was the 3rd person to get to his face down cards, while the person most likely to win - an old greying man with two missing fingers on each hand - only had 3 cards left.

With his heart jackhammering in his chest and adrenaline pumping through his veins, Lavi watched attentively as the person to his right played a queen; bad, but not impossible. Looking down at his 5 face down cards with a serious expression, he debated between them with no real gauge of how to pick, other than praying for good luck. Eventually he picked the second card from the right; a 2. He let out a quiet sigh of relief as he placed it on the face up deck and leant back in his chair. It was then the turn of the player to his left, who had been unlucky towards the middle of the game and had the most cards left; he seemed thankful for an easy card to beat.

Another round passed, and the old man only had 2 cards left when it was Lavi’s turn to play. The man to his right played a 9, which meant he had to play a card _lower_ than a 9. Lavi spent as much time as possible deciding on a card before going with his gut feeling and playing the card furthest to the right.

An ace of spades.

Neah groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead. “Shit, you’ve lost! Look how many cards you have to pick up!”

Lavi didn’t respond and stared at the upturned ace in front of him with an odd expression. It wasn’t until Neah shook his shoulder lightly that he seemed to come to his senses and pick up the entire face up deck from the middle - 8 cards in total. It placed him in 4th, unless the old man managed to lose his hand and gain whatever cards appeared in the middle before his turn.

But lose Lavi did, quite spectacularly, as two rounds passed and the person next to the old man played a face down card of 3 - the lowest card in the game - securing the old man’s victory as he placed his winning 6 of hearts card.

“You all lose! Gimme your bets!”

Everyone grumbled, reaching into their pockets for their various worthy belongings; gold, stolen watches, a compass, other odds and ends that seemed worthless but were valuable as bets in themselves. The old man gathered his winnings into a pile before him with a grin. It was then that he turned to Lavi, who hadn’t made any moves to give his weapon away, and scowled.

“Oi, you haven’t put your bet forward.”

Lavi gave a shaky smile. “C-can we play a best of three?”

Silence, then incredulous laughter until the winning player slammed one hand on the table and extended his other hand to Lavi, who closed his eye and took a deep breath.

“Give me your bet. _Now_.”

The tension around the table built considerably the longer Lavi sat, eye closed, hands placed on the table. Neah looked from Lavi, to the angry winner, to the rest of the players who all seemed torn between wanting a fight and wanting to leave before things got ugly. After a while, Lavi slowly slid his hammer out of its holster, placed it on the table, and slid it towards the old man across from him. The old man reached forward to pick up the weapon, expression set into one of pleased victory, but as soon as his fingers touched the crystalline exterior of Lavi’s Innocence he collapsed backwards, holding his head with a pained gasp. The others all stood and went to help him. Lavi hurriedly reached for his hammer from across the table and holstered it before anyone else could touch it, knowing how badly Innocence could affect non-accommodators, particularly those who tried to take such weapons for their own. Lavi’s hammer audibly scraped against the tabletop before he secured it against his thigh. Everyone turned to stare at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what the hell…”

“How did…?”

“What _is_ that?”

Lavi met their shocked gazes and gave a cheery smile. “Whoops, did I forget to mention I’m cursed to have that weapon? Looks like I can’t give it to ya after all.”

He stood and edged his way to the door, arms raised, grin plastered across his face to disguise his anxiety. The others simply stood and watched, wide eyed, until the old man pointed at him, teeth gritted, hands shaking.

“You lying cheat!”

The man stormed towards him and grabbed him by the shirt, eyes blazing. Lavi gave a nervous laugh before looking over his shoulder at Neah with a desperate expression.

“Little help, _please_?”

Neah gave a nonchalant shrug. “You told me not to make any trouble.”

Lavi stared at him until he spoke with a hysterical edge to his voice. “Yes, but that was before this happened so do me a favour and _give me some help_.”

Sighing, Neah walked forwards, curled his right hand into a fist, and slammed it into the old man’s face. The old man fell to the ground, curled up in pain. Lavi turned towards Neah, open-mouthed.

“Th-that’s not what I meant, you _idiot_!”

Neah stuck out his tongue. “Well, maybe specify next time you ask for hel-”

A fist flew in their direction and they both dodged. The man who tried to hit them crashed into a nearby table, sending drinks shattering to the ground. More people stood and began to yell and reach for weapons. In a matter of seconds, mass confusion and an itch for violence led to accusations and thrown punches until it was unclear who exactly was fighting who. Lavi and Neah edged towards the door, dodging punches and throwing some of their own. Just as they reached the door, Neah made a noise and went back into the fray, much to Lavi’s frustration.

“Wait, what’re you doing?! We need to go!”

“Gimme a sec.”

Neah pushed and shoved until he reached the man who would have won Lavi’s hammer, punched him hard in the face before ridding him of all the coins he’d gained from his win, and fought his way back to the door with a smile.

“Now we can go.”

Lavi stared at him incredulously. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“ _They’re getting away_!”

The man Neah had just punched, blood flowing from each nostril, made his way towards them with a knife in hand. Lavi un-holstered his Innocence and activated it with a call of its name. With a flourish, he increased the hammer’s size and knocked everyone nearby into a far corner, throwing himself out the door before they could get up, Neah following close behind.

They began to run when they heard angry yells behind them. A few attempted to follow them but came to a scrambled halt when they realised they’d disappeared from sight, a mysterious seal imprinted on the ground the only thing left in their wake.

Most of the crowd soon dissipated, already disinterested, but a hooded old man remained where he stood, head raised towards the sky, a black star swirling into view on his forehead.


	9. Secrets and Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of running and hiding, Allen and Neah find themselves travelling with Lavi, who after narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Noah Family struggles to find purpose. They soon find themselves running from a lot more than fate, and soon they will have to decide whether they will accept the roles they’ve been forced into, or make their own path in a world that’s hellbent on taking it from them. [Canon divergent from chapter 218]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up taking a 3 month hiatus without meaning to, apologies for the break. This is a longer chapter (9k) so I’m hoping that makes up for it! One of my favourite scenes is in this chapter, so I hope people enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. As always let me know what you think!
> 
> **Warnings:** Scene involving strangling/asphyxiation

The sun had long since set by the time Lavi and Neah found shelter.

Their escape from the bar had been rushed, fuelled by panic and the fear of being followed. It would not take long for the Order or the Noah to hear word of a brawl and the mention of Innocence. By the time they found anywhere suitable to rest, they were tired, sore, and hungry. Any use for the coins Neah had stolen soon dissipated into nothing as they - very begrudgingly - accepted there would be no food for them that night.

Pushing the thought of comfy inns and warm meals out of their mind, they settled into their shelter of choice - an empty hut, dilapidated and abandoned. As the sun fully set behind nearby hills, shadows crept over rotten timber and broken shale, branches creaking, air heavy with moisture; a storm was coming. Lavi flopped onto a dry patch of floor, looking up at the broken rafters above his head with a grimace - sleeping somewhere dry was out of the question too, it seemed. Neah slumped against a nearby wall with a groan.

“I’m so _hungry_.”

Lavi sighed. “Whinin’ won’t make it any easier.”

Neah threw a glare his way, tone wreathed in sarcasm. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s not like we could’ve stayed in a comfy inn if a certain someone hadn’t gotten us into a _bar fight_.”

Lavi dragged his hands down his face, exasperated. “You started it! If you hadn’t punched that guy we could’ve resolved it another way!”

“And if you hadn’t bet your Innocence and lost I wouldn’t have needed to punch anyone, you fucking moron! We could’ve bet our clothes, or offered to fight people, or something other than a weapon you can’t afford to lose!”

Lavi made a frustrated noise, anger steadily rising within him. “Well, sorry for bein’ an idiot and not thinking straight! In case you’d forgotten, _you’re_ the reason we don’t have any supplies. Next time I’d like to see you try and do somethin’ to get us food and a room for the night!”

“And I’d like to see you try and _shut the fuck up_!”

Lavi didn’t reply, knowing better than to argue with Neah in such a bad mood. He settled for cold, stony silence. Minutes passed, and the tension dissipated into a weariness that ached and weighed heavily on their shoulders. Lavi longed for sound, anything other than the quiet, heavy emptiness that surrounded him. He got his wish when Neah began to speak, voice low and full of frustration.

“Look, I can’t hang around here like this. I can’t keep getting stuck with no food and no way out when I have so much to…” Neah paused, hands clenched at his sides, a desperate edge entering his voice. “I can’t keep fucking around and doing nothing.”

Lavi was silent for a while before he began to laugh. There was no malice or mockery in his laughter, but it angered Neah nonetheless. He spoke with gritted teeth, eyes narrowed.

“What’s so funny?”

Lavi shook his head with a smile. “It’s nothin’, it’s just… you’re so like _him_ when you talk like that. It’s kinda a weird contrast to you being an annoying little shit most of the time.”

Neah scowled at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lavi remained silent until he gave a soft smile and said, “I dunno, makes me think you and Allen aren’t all that different from each other.”

Neah laughed, bitterly. “Oh, I think we are.”

“You’re not, take it from me. I’ve been observin’ Allen since me and Gramps were tasked to watch him and write the hidden history he created. At first I thought he was a naïve idiot, ‘cause he was so horrified at the thought of fighting the Noah.” Lavi laughed. “It was so stupid! I couldn’t wrap my head around it. But then we fought together, and I saw what he saw through that left eye of his, an’ my first thought was _the world as he sees it is hell_. He’s gone through so much shit, and he just… keeps going…”

Lavi lapsed into silence, gaze faraway, lost in his memories. He turned back to Neah with a grin.

“That’s why you two are so similar. You’re both hell bent on stickin’ to your path and keepin’ your promises, no matter what happens. Makes me think you guys could figure something out, ya know?”

Neah stared, open-mouthed and incredulous, until he laughed and rubbed at his temples. “Work something out? But that’s… that’s not how it _works_.”

“Who cares!  Since when did you give a shit about that?”

Lavi’s voice suddenly had a hard edge to it, and for a reason Neah couldn’t explain it irritated him. He barely resisted the urge to take a hand to Lavi’s throat, shaking from the effort of holding himself back, teeth gritted.

“There is no other option. Noah inhabit a host, take over, and live in that body until they die. We repeat it over and over until the ends of fucking time.”

Lavi shot him a look. “And yet you can’t take over, funny that.”

Neah’s voice rose in pitch. “I didn’t know he had Innocence, did I? If he hadn’t ended up with it since I last saw him, we wouldn’t be in thi-”

“Wait, since you last saw…”

Neah and Lavi both fell silent, one wide-eyed and full of confusion, the other regretting his words.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Neah was far too quick to say it and Lavi jumped on it instantly. “Oh, I’m pretty sure it does. How the fuck could you have met Allen before now?”

Neah hissed. “ _It doesn’t concern you_.”

“It concerns my record, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t -” Neah pointed a finger, full of anger “- _don’t_ pull that card on me. You can’t tell me not to call you Bookman, and then use that to lord it over me for information. Make up your fucking mind.”

Lavi remained silent, jaw set. A nameless feeling welled up inside of him, slowly building, cloying and disorienting. Neah stood and took a few steps forward, practically seething with anger. Lavi’s vision went hazy at the edges.

“And speaking of which, since when were you an expert on this bullshit, huh? Why should I listen to you about other options when you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about?”

Lavi didn’t respond, head lowering, shoulders tense. Neah mistook it for restrained anger and took another step, gripping Lavi by the shirt and forcing his head up. Neah was met with a hand pushing him back, cold, calculating anger and someone that Lavi was not.

“Do you ever stop whining? How does anyone stand you at all?”

Neah narrowed his eyes, disliking this new tone even more than the hot-tempered anger from before.

“You want some advice? No-one told you there wasn’t another option, so make one. You’re standing there in a pointless stand-off where neither of you can win and it’s _really irritating_.”

Neah frowned. “I don’t get it. Why are you acting so offended over something that isn’t anything to do with you? Since when did you Bookmen start giving bullshit life advice?”

A smile with no warmth, forced and strained. “You misunderstand. I’m not doing this to help you. I’m doing this because you’re annoying the hell out of me, and I don’t want to listen to the two of you fight anymore.”

Neah raised an eyebrow, confusion rising, ready to speak but interrupted by a finger jabbing into his chest, hard enough to hurt.

“Neither of you can win, you know that, right? As long as you exist, and as long as you have that left arm, you’re gonna be stuck here until you both end up dead somewhere.” Neah tried to interrupt but was immediately cut off before he could get a word in. “Giving Walker some credit, he doesn’t know anything about this. But _you_ know what you’re doing, don’t you? Are you talking to him? No, because you’re a self-righteous bastard!”

Neah spluttered over his words. “Wh-why the fuck would I help him like that? There’s no need t-”

“Why? Because you’re stuck here with him, so you might as well get used to it. If you’re so damn annoyed about the situation you’re in, put on your big boy pants and _talk to him_.”

Neah was shoved aside and heavy footsteps made for the door. Neah gave an exasperated noise and called out.

“Where are you going?”

Silence, and the abrupt sound of the door slamming shut, was the only answer he got in return.

* * *

Thick, suffocating air, the whistling of the wind through nearby branches, the patter of rain as it descended from the heavens in soft, tentative drops before falling in a roaring chorus of sound. The ground was damp underfoot, cloying mud and thick undergrowth and wet leaves stuck to Lavi’s boots. Rain trickled down his neck, cold and immediately grounding him in the present.

Lavi froze, blinking rapidly, looking at his surroundings with confusion. He had been arguing with Neah, driven to anger by hunger and exhaustion. Neah had started walking towards him, and then… haze, cloying and disorientating. He had a vague recollection, something that felt far more like a dream than a memory, of raised voices and the sudden humidity of the outside world as he…

No, it hadn’t been _him_.

Realisation kicking in, Lavi sighed and rubbed at his temples with damp fingers. He turned inward, eye closed to the dark and the rain, and at first… nothing, then a lingering feeling of anger, and a squirming, uncomfortable feeling of shame from somewhere deep within himself.

Junior had shoved Lavi’s control aside in a moment of impulse, it seemed. A sudden feeling of fear curled itself into Lavi’s insides - a sense of having lost control, picture-perfect memory for once obscured and hazy - before the feeling dissipated.

Lavi ran a hand through his sodden hair, conflicted. He didn’t feel angry, not necessarily. He disliked it when his control was shoved aside in such a way, especially without warning, but he knew it was a long time coming. That burning frustration, wanting to say _I know_ but knowing it wasn’t his place to comfort, to reassure. Both Lavi and Junior had observed Allen and Neah’s suffering and wanted to make it stop, but whether it was for Allen and Neah’s sakes or their own, they didn’t know. They didn’t _want_ to know.

Lavi opened his eye and let out a frustrated noise. Going by the heavy weight of his clothes against his skin, he’d lost enough time for Junior to mope in the rain and soak them to the bone. The thought that Allen and Neah would both understand this feeling of frustration brought a bitter smile to Lavi’s features. He turned his head, seeing the darkened silhouette of the hut in the distance, and wondered if Neah had taken his chance to run off, finally free of his unwanted companion. Lavi’s smile dropped, a sinking feeling curling itself inside, digging its claws into his heart.

He took a hurried step forward before hesitating. Even if Neah hadn’t run off, he would have to explain what had happened, and ultimately what it meant. Allen had taken the news well, but that didn’t mean Neah would. The last time this kind of situation had occurred in front of someone, it had been Junior beating Allen within an inch of his life on Noah’s Ark, puppeted by Road’s strings. It was not something Lavi wanted to think about, in any way whatsoever, but Neah would demand answers, or at the very least he would be confused about what had transpired.

Where Lavi reacted with emotion and heated words, Junior was all logic and calculating insults, knowing exactly what buttons to press. Lavi knew that no matter what he said, or who had said what, he was likely going to get his head bashed in, and that was only if Neah hadn’t taken off into the darkness, starving and alone. He let out a sigh, shoulders slumped, trying to focus on the rain upon his skin instead of the turmoil inside his head, failing to do so.

Lavi had set things into motion with Allen and Neah and he shouldn’t have done, according to the code he lived by at least. He had expressed sympathy and warmth where none should exist, revealing things about himself that he had kept secret for many long years. Lavi didn’t know what Junior had said to Neah - Junior was avoiding him as thoroughly as possible - but things had clearly gone too far.

A Bookman was a simple observer, stood on the sidelines, devoid of anger or misleading emotion. A Bookman did not get invested, a Bookman did not involve themself in the lives of others, particularly when it came to their records. Neah’s comment about Lavi abusing his status as a Bookman for information had been intended as an insult, but he wasn’t wrong either. Lavi was being a hypocrite, avoiding the burden of his duty while still hoarding whatever information he could get his hands on.

Equally, it was hard to stay impartial when the topic matter was such a personal one to everyone involved.

Lavi knew his circumstances were different, but he still deeply understood the frustration that was swallowing Neah and Allen whole. There were many differences between them, but the main thing that separated Lavi’s situation from theirs was the co-operation and understanding he had developed between himself and those he shared his body - and his life - with. Bookman Junior, as Lavi had come to call him - neither of them could remember the names they had been given, or given themselves as children - had always been there to protect him, regardless of their opposing interests, and that had eased any tension between them as the years passed them by. That understanding had given Lavi a perspective that was completely different to Allen and Neah’s.

Allen and Neah remembered being separate. They had no idea how to navigate their current situation. Allen was scared, Lavi knew that. He was mortally afraid of disappearing, that his already flimsy grasp on reality was slipping through his fingertips. Neah was scared too, but for a very different reason. He had so little time to do what he needed to, and the longer he did nothing, the slimmer his chances got.

It was obvious Neah had not considered the idea of his host rejecting him, and Lavi could scarcely comprehend what he had said about Allen not having had Innocence before. It was frustrating to see the two of them refuse to accept their current way of living, though Lavi didn’t blame them for it, and he knew painfully well that even if Allen attempted to accept the situation and propose an agreement that Neah was very unlikely to accept it, even if he was ruining his own chances of getting anywhere with his goals in the process.

Lavi had no idea what Neah was planning, other than he intended to kill and replace the current Millennium Earl. He had overheard the Noah discussing it in hushed tones before they had interrogated Bookman, and the fear and uncertainty in their voices said enough about how severe the consequences would be if Neah achieved his goal.

But surely Allen of all people would be willing to help him defeat the Earl? If it benefited the both of them, why couldn’t they work together? Lavi and Junior had done that exact same thing, knowing that for all their differences they still shared the same insecurities and fears, that working together was the better option by far. Lavi hadn’t been afraid of him in years - Road’s influence from the Ark being an exception.

If they could do it, why couldn’t Allen and Neah do the same?

Lavi rubbed at his face tiredly, lowering his head and feeling drops of water trickle down his face and patter onto his boots. He was far too invested in the two of them and their struggles, trapped in a messy situation that was leading him further and further away from the future he’d been forced to choose. If he wanted to become Bookman, he would have to abandon the both of them, regardless of whether he managed to convince the two of them to work together for their own good or not.

He was also painfully aware that he shouldn’t be convincing the two of them of anything in the first place, and the fact Junior had lost his temper and stepped in was a bad sign. Junior’s role was keeping Lavi in line with what being a Bookman meant; to be an unbiased observer, standing on the side-lines and watching events play out as fate dictated. They were both directly involving themselves in something that was affecting history, they were _changing_ what they would be writing in their records, and that was the exact opposite of what a Bookman was meant to be.

Between Lavi’s own selfish desires for a purpose after Bookman’s death, a deep sympathy and understanding of Allen and Neah’s situation, and both his and Junior’s long-term bitterness and indecision towards their future, they were stuck in a situation where they were unable to forsake their duty or accept it, and it was _torture_. They had been avoiding this decision their entire lives, ignoring every single red flag that had come their way, determined to make it work.

All they wanted was to be free, and yet it was such a difficult thing to achieve.

Lavi raised himself up, taking in a deep breath, and letting it out slow and steady as the cold settled itself into his bones, clothes wet and cloying against his skin. He looked out into the distance, eye fixed on the darkened hut amongst the trees, and sighed.

“Well, time to try and fix this mess.”

* * *

The door slammed shut so loudly that Neah winced. The room lapsed into a heavy silence, interrupted only by the sound of the rain and the quiet drips of water through holes in the ceiling to the ground below.

Neah leant back against the wall behind him and slid down, sighing deeply before running a hand through his hair. The anger he felt faded away, and he was left with a feeling he didn’t want; _guilt_. Neah had spent his entire life running from that feeling, running from the weight that refused to leave his shoulders.

Lavi’s words had stuck, though the end of their little ‘confrontation’ had been somewhat… strange. Uncertainty and confusion consumed Neah until his stomach was twisting in pain from more than just hunger.

Neah had made a promise to himself, and to Mana, that he would defy fate and save the both of them, no matter the cost. He had been so certain that his plan would work, but everything had gone wrong, and now he was stuck in a body that was rejecting him. The only options he had were remaining stuck or dying and finding a new host, and he couldn’t go with either of those options.

But were they truly his only options? He had never questioned the nature of his existence as a Noah before. He’d been so certain that Timcanpy would ensure his takeover, since the less Allen felt like ‘Allen’, the more the lines would blur until there was only ‘Neah’. But with Timcanpy gone - which still left Neah pained and consumed with worry - Allen had no way of seeing Neah’s memories, and he was stubbornly and resolutely keeping a hold of his existence.

They were both stuck in limbo, unable to progress, unable to do anything more than take a step forward, even if the other took a step in the opposite direction. Neah had wondered many times why he could not take over, why he was stuck like this. He’d so strongly wanted to destroy the Innocence attached to his body that at times it brought him physical pain. But if it was destroyed, he would die; at least, if what Lavi had said about the hole in Allen’s - and by proxy Neah’s - heart was true. Unless he found a way to overcome its power with his own, he was stuck in this body with his host until they both died from exhaustion, or at the hands of their enemies that ever increased in number.

Or he could find another option.

Despite his lingering irritation towards the Bookman apprentice in his company, a part of Neah knew Lavi was right; neither he, the Allen he had once known, or the ‘Allen’ he had come to know accepted the fates that were thrust upon them. They all wanted to find their own paths in life, to tread on unpressed ground and find a future that _they_ wanted to live. Neah had been so caught up in running and hiding and simply surviving that he hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the person he shared his body with, to the person he had once called a friend.

The person he had so easily called an enemy.

That thought pained him, so deeply he clutched at his chest and winced. He had become so used to calling those around him enemies, distrusting and expecting betrayal everywhere he went. Every waking thought since his death had been to destroy the Mana that was not his, the Mana that no longer remembered the golden fields of their home, the promises they had made, the memories they had of each other - _the Mana that had become his enemy_.

If he couldn’t trust Mana, then he couldn’t trust anyone.

Or so he’d thought. He had become so good at shoving aside his emotions in favour of purpose, his self-proclaimed duty, and yet for all his criticisms on the Bookman Clan he was being a hypocrite. If he held no trust in Lavi, he would have killed him outright, or left him injured and made his escape. He would not be sat, moping in the dark, waiting for him to return if he did not trust him in some regard. He could not do it alone, Neah knew that. In a way, it was easier trusting someone who was as conflicted as he was, and that irony made Neah smile, bitterly.

Footsteps and the creak of the door opening made the smile fall from Neah’s features. The sound of the rain was so loud and so immediate that for a moment it was all Neah could focus on. Lavi stood soaking wet and dripping rainwater in the doorway would normally be a sight that Neah would have poken fun at, but he found himself unable to speak. Lavi’s footsteps were heavy as he entered the darkened hut, gaze fixed on the dirty floor beneath his feet, eye narrowed.

A tense, heavy silence descended upon them. Both were unsure of what to say, knowing that there was so much they _could_ say but did not know how to express, or were too secretive to reveal. Lavi was the first to break the silence, shifting awkwardly where he stood and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m -”

Neah raised an eyebrow. “If you’re going to apologise, don’t bother.” Lavi made a disgruntled noise and Neah resisted the urge to smirk. “And I mean, hey, at least you have the balls to say what you think. It means I have an excuse to beat the shit out of you sometime.”

Lavi sighed, shoulders slumping in obvious relief, before he sat down a few metres away from Neah. “You were pissin’ me off too much to sit back and let you be a little shit.”

Neah stuck out his tongue in response. Lavi shook his head with a smile, slumping backwards to lie on the floor with a sigh. He debated whether or not he should try and raise the topic from their earlier conversation, but he knew that if he didn’t say it now he never would.

“I just… can’t sit here and listen to you talk about all that as if you’re the only one.”

Neah watched him carefully for a moment, eyes narrowed. Moments added up - seething glares and the taste of alcohol, the sound of rain and angered words - and when it finally clicked, Neah ran his hands through his hair with a resigned noise.

“So, this is when you tell me you’re a host for a Noah and I get to kill you or something, right?”

Lavi laughed. “You wish.” He faltered for a moment before continuing, voice quiet. “Nah, for me it’s a little different. I told Allen about it before you woke up in Mâcon, and before you get all huffy with me, I was gonna tell you soon after, but you decided to run off and be a fucking moron.”

Neah scowled down at him. “When are you gonna let that go? Jeez...”

“As soon as you stop being an A grade asshole.” Lavi paused before stretching where he lay, grimacing at how clammy his skin felt under his wet clothes. “Explainin’ it to you would take too much effort, so all ya need to know is if you ever try and tell me I don’t know what I’m talkin’ about again, I’m gonna lose my shit at you.”

Neah shot him a look. “Since when have I ever cared about your feelings, Bookman?”

Lavi tensed up. “Stop calling me that.”

“Why?”

Neah seemed genuinely curious, so Lavi decided to give him an honest answer. He sighed before speaking in a low tone, expression pained.

“It doesn’t… feel right, not right now.”

Neah paused before asking, “So what do I call you instead?”

Lavi looked up at him incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my name, you dumbass.”

“I haven’t. ‘Lavi’ isn’t your name, is it? And you’re not on your record right now, no matter how many times you insist that’s why you’re here.” Lavi shifted uncomfortably and Neah sighed. “Ain’t you got another name?”

Lavi pulled a face. “Why’ve you gotta be so difficult? I guess… Junior will do.”

Neah frowned. “Junior?”

“It’s short for Bookman Junior, but just Junior’s fine.”

Neah paused before speaking, disbelief showing in his expression. “You got mad about me calling you ‘kid’, but ‘Junior’ is fine?”

Lavi scowled. “They mean completely different things, you ass.”

“Ugh, fine, _Junior_ it is then.”

Lavi fell silent for a few moments before laughing. “Ya know, even if I’ve gone by that before, I’m so used to bein’ called ‘Lavi’ it’s kinda weird that _I’m_ the one being called ‘Junior’. What’ll you call the other guy now?”

Neah gave him a confused look before understanding what he meant and shrugged. “Who cares, he can just be ‘idiot’ or ‘moron’ for all I care.”

Lavi snorted. “Yeah he, uh, isn’t happy about that. But I guess we can’t really expect anythin’ better from you.”

Neah stuck out his tongue and Lavi simply shook his head, staring up at the ceiling with a contemplative expression.

“You know, from all the records I’d read on you, you seemed like a difficult bastard who would kill anyone who got in his way.” Neah scowled in reply and Lavi laughed. “Hey, you know it’s true. But even if the records are right on those counts, you’re also not that bad of a guy. I’m surprised.”

Neah faltered. “Oi, is that an insult or a compliment?”

Lavi smirked up at him. “Since when have I ever cared about your feelings, Noah?”

“Fuck you.”

Lavi laughed, closing his eye and taking a moment to enjoy the silence that had befallen them, one that lacked the heaviness from earlier. For many long minutes, he and Neah said nothing, feeling the tension dissipate between them, though there were still many unanswered questions and things that neither of them knew how to voice. After a long while Lavi spoke, almost too quietly for Neah to hear.

“I don’t care what you do. Keep tryin’ to take over Allen, do nothing, I really couldn’t give a shit.” He faltered, guilt showing in his expression. “Well, actually, maybe I do care. A little bit.”

Neah snorted. “A lot.”

Lavi glared at him before continuing. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. All I’m sayin’ is if you’re that desperate to get a move on and go kill the Earl or whatever that Allen may be more up for helpin’ you than you think. And -” he interrupted Neah before he could speak, giving him a knowing look “- before you say ‘but he definitely wouldn’t’ how’re ya gonna know if you don’t ask? People will do a lot to surprise you if their future is on the line.”

Neah remained silent for a while before muttering under his breath. “Look at me, taking advice from a cry baby.”

“H-hey, I didn’t cry!”

“Yeah, yeah, doesn’t matter what you say, you’re still a cry baby to me.”

Lavi scowled but said nothing, preferring Neah’s light-hearted teasing to the fight they had earlier. Neah seemed in a better mood, but pensive, and the air he gave off was one of both stubbornness and agreement. Even if Lavi and Junior had both said too much - far, _far_ too much - it seemed their words had done something good after all, and the apprehension and anxiety that had settled in Lavi’s chest gave way just a little.

Lavi stretched and yawned before sitting up. “Anyway, you should probably sleep, I’ll take first watch.”

Neah glared at him. “Who are you, my mother?” Lavi shot him a look and he sighed, shaking his head a little. “Alright, fine, I’m tired of talking to you anyway. Though…” he paused and looked Lavi over, raising an eyebrow at his wet clothes and how exhausted he looked. “You really gonna handle taking first watch?”

Lavi smirked. “Who are you, my mother?” Neah growled at his obvious teasing and he laughed. “Plus, it doesn’t matter ‘cause I’m takin’ first watch whether you like it or not.”

“Fine, but if you catch pneumonia and die, or fall asleep and let us get attacked, then I’m leaving you for dead.”

Lavi raised a middle finger at him in response and watched as Neah moved to lie down in the centre of the room. All fell silent as he lay down to sleep, coat folded underneath his head. Just as Lavi shuffled backwards to sit by a nearby wall, the room settling into silence, he heard Neah speak, so quietly it was as if he’d imagined it.

“Goodnight, Junior. Kick me awake when it’s dawn.”

Lavi paused before smiling, voice full of amusement. “Sure thing, Neah. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

Silence; enshrouded by darkness and the quiet rustle of leaves outside. As Lavi settled into a comfortable position, gaze fixed on the grimy window and the moonlit outside world with his thoughts elsewhere, Neah lay for several minutes in silence, eyes open and full of thought, before sighing and eventually falling asleep.

* * *

The morning arose, golden and full of sunlit intentions. It was going to be a beautiful morning, with only small wisps of cloud obscuring the otherwise endless blue sky.

Lavi would have stayed true to his word and kicked Neah awake, if not just for his hilarious reaction, but he seemed so peaceful and exhausted that Lavi didn’t have the heart to wake him. Instead, Lavi went back to his position in a corner of the room and hummed quietly under his breath. Hours passed, and the sun drifted higher into the brightening sky, sending rays of light through the grimy windowpanes until flecks of golden dust floated among it. Lavi watched with a content expression on his face, counting each mote of dust as it fell to land by his feet, until he heard the sound of someone stirring with a groan.

“Wh… what time is it?”

A voice muffled by sleep, a tired yawn and a smooth stretch of both arms above his head - Allen had returned. The particular way he held himself was very distinctly ‘Allen’; the way he used his left arm was the main giveaway. Lavi rubbed the back of his neck, fighting off the urge to yawn.

“No idea, probably nine or ten in the mornin’.”

Allen blinked sleepily in the brightening daylight before having another stretch and yawn, standing up with a wince. “You’d think I’d be used to hard floors by now. _Ouch_.”

Lavi smiled. “Don’t think any amount of doin’ it is gonna make it easier, beansprout.”

“It’s Allen, stupid Lavi.” He paused before holding his stomach with a groan. “God, how long has it been since that bastard ate something? Wait…” He froze, a hard edge entering his words. “Wait, how long was I…?”

“A few days.”

“And did anything… happen?”

Lavi paused, unsure of how to explain the events that had transpired while Allen had been gone. “Well we, uh, had a bit of a dramatic exit from Mâcon, let’s put it that way.”

Allen tensed up, alarm showing in his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘dramatic’? Did anything bad happen? Are you alright?”

Lavi faltered a little before sighing heavily, head lowering. “Akuma and the Order turned up, Neah tried to run away, I had to -”

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down. The Order was there? Neah did _what_?!”

Lavi gave a weary smile. “I’ll fill you in, don’t worry.” He paused before continuing, a curious edge entering his voice. “Did Neah… say anythin’ to you?”

Allen scowled, confused. “No, of course not, why would he - ?”

“Never mind, I’ll get you up to speed as we walk. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” Lavi stood and stretched, cricking his neck with a wince. When he noticed Allen was staring at him with narrowed eyes he frowned. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

Allen paused, taking a moment to pick the right words. “Nothing really, you just seem… a bit different. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Lavi nodded with a smile. “Yup, same ol’ Lavi right here.”

Allen stared at him for a few seconds longer before sighing and looking away. “Well, if you say you’re fine, then alright. Shall we get going?”

Lavi nodded, feeling apprehensive over Allen catching on far too quickly to the cracks in his mask. He had kept quiet about his own troubles for far too long, and it wasn’t fair on Allen for Lavi to keep him in the dark when he already knew so little about everything, but Lavi didn’t know if he was ready for that honest of a conversation, not yet.

With little reluctance, they left the grimy shack that had been their abode for the night, starting down a path through thick fir trees. The forest floor was damp and squishy beneath their feet, thick with leaves and undergrowth, and they hardly made a sound as they walked; they would be but ghosts if their breath didn’t leave little clouds of air behind them.

As they walked, Lavi filled Allen in on what had happened - the arrival of the Order and their fight with Akuma, Neah running and Lavi later having to get him out of a difficult situation, Neah losing their supplies - which earnt a very loud and exasperated groan from Allen - as well as his thoughts on Neah and the flight from the bar, which had both amused and enraged Allen - _you could so easily have cheated, I can’t believe you lost_ \- before finally explaining what had happened the night before. It took Allen a long time to find his words once Lavi had finished explaining.

“So you… told him about you and the others…”

Lavi nodded. “I did. It seemed like he seriously listened to me, though knowin’ him it won’t count for much.”

Allen remained silent for a long while before he spoke, hope showing in his expression. “Do you think… we could keep going like this? Where neither of us have to…?”

Lavi looked over at him, watching the emotions flickering in Allen’s expression, before interlacing his fingers behind his neck with a thoughtful hum. “Well, that’s kinda up to the two of you to decide. We’ve managed it, so I don’t see why you two couldn’t. You and Neah are different to us, but you’re on equal footing with each other right now, since neither of you can properly use your powers.”

Allen looked away, trying not to hold on to the hope building in his heart too tightly for fear of it fading away. Lavi watched his reaction carefully before continuing, curiosity tingeing his words.

“Ya know, I was wondering… well, if you get your Innocence workin’ again, the ball would be in your court, figuratively speaking. Would you get rid of Neah, if you could?”

Allen faltered a little, unsure. “Well, I don’t… like living like this. Ah -” he turned to Lavi quickly, waving his hands with a worried expression “- I don’t mean to say that the situation you’re in is bad or anything, I just -”

Lavi laughed, shaking his head a little. “You couldn’t offend us if you tried. Plus, your situation’s completely different. What were you gonna say, before you interrupted yourself like a moron?”

Allen scowled at him before rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, I was going to say that… well, if I could go back to how things were before the Ark, I would. But…” he sighed, conflicted “… I realised when the Third Exorcists appeared that I had started fearing and hating things without even thinking about it. I feel like it would be a bad idea for me to just… get rid of Neah, even if I’m scared of what he can do and what he _wants_ to do. So, maybe Neah and I can come to… some kind of understanding…”

As Allen spoke, Lavi felt the same feeling he had gotten in Mâcon, when Allen had seemed like a different person to him. He had changed a lot in the months since Lavi had been gone; he was a person that bloomed in the face of adversity, and watching Allen battle his fears and put them aside so he could keep going was incredibly admirable, in Lavi’s mind.

A soft laugh from beside him brought Lavi’s attention away from his thoughts.

“You know…” Allen turned to look up at Lavi with a bright smile. “I don’t think anything could completely get rid of my fears about this, but I… feel better than I have done for a long time, so truly - thank you, Lavi.”

His words and the smile he had given caught Lavi off guard, making him falter a little as he walked. Allen’s eyes radiated gratitude and happiness and Lavi found himself unable to meet that gaze, cheeks burning.

“W-well, he might still decide not to work with you, ya know, so take whatever he ends up doin’ and sayin’ with a pinch of salt.” He faltered, rubbing the back of his neck. “And it’s… really nothing, Allen. I’m just glad he’s at least listening to me about this, ya know?”

Allen shook his head with a smile. “It isn’t just ‘nothing’, Lavi. It’s important, what you’ve been doing for us both.” His own choice of wording threw him for a moment, making him fall silent. Eventually he continued, voice softening. “So, what about you? Are you sure you’re alright?”

Lavi gave him a questioning glance and all Allen did in reply was look at him as if he could see right through him, if but for a moment. It made Lavi feel incredibly vulnerable, that gaze, and he immediately looked away and tried to shut out any emotion that had started peeking its way into his expression.

“Well, it’s been a shit few days, but I’ve had worse.” _Way worse_. “So, don’ worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

He felt guilty for hiding his panic over Neah - and, by proxy, Allen - leaving, as well as the tense conversation he and Neah had over Bookman’s death, but he did not wish to tarnish his friend’s hopeful mood, or make him feel as if Lavi was any sort of burden.

Allen seemed to consider his response for a moment before sighing. “Okay, if you say so… But Neah really didn’t do anything to hurt you, did he?”

“He didn’t. May have been an irritatin’ asshole on more than one occasion, but I can handle that. You don’t have to worry so much about it. As long as I don’t do too much to piss him off, I think I’ll be fine.”

Lavi grinned and it reassured Allen, even if it was by just a little. After a moment of silence, interrupted only by their footsteps and the sound of crushed leaves beneath their feet, Lavi spoke quietly.

“We just… need some time to get our head sorted, ya know?”

It was the most honest response he had given so far, and Allen picked up on it. After looking up at him for a moment with a careful gaze, he spoke quietly.

“That goes for the both of us…” Allen paused before continuing, voice resolute and determined. “But, you know, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.”

Lavi didn’t meet his eyes, gaze fixed ahead, and nodded. He was thankful of those words more than Allen would know, more than his words could express. But he knew that he couldn’t speak of it yet, not when he still understood so little about what was even wrong in the first place. But as Allen caught up to him and gave him a warm smile - brightly shining, like he did back then - Lavi managed to give a nervous smile back and felt a little of the weight leave his shoulders.

From then on, they walked in amiable silence, boots leaving imprinted footsteps on the forest floor in their wake. The wind hardly stirred the leaves of the trees that loomed above them, and as they felt the heat rise on their backs they began to swelter under the midday sun. The forest was huge, larger than they had imagined, and the deeper they ventured into it the more hot and stuffy the atmosphere became. Soon, they were forced to carry their coats, sweating and panting for breath as the ground began to rise. After hours of walking, they found an alcove atop a small hill, devoid of trees and undergrowth, where the sun shone brightly down on emerald grass. They walked up the incline and gulped down the fresh air, relishing the feeling of cold wind on their sticky and overheated skin.

After enjoying the cool air for a few minutes, Lavi stood at the tallest point of the hill and looked around, hand poised above his eye to protect his vision from the glaring sunlight.

“Man… this place is bigger than I thought, must be a good ten or twenty miles across. We seem to be nearly out of it, though.”

Allen stretched before looking over at him. “Will we make it out before nightfall then?”

“Hope so. Though…”

Allen titled his head as Lavi’s voice became full of apprehension. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just… not been an Akuma attack since we left Mâcon.”

Lavi didn’t need to say anything more; Allen nodded and stood, coat in hand, nervous but determined. As they made their way off the hill and back into the sweltering shade of the forest, they felt tension mount with each step. Each and every sudden noise left them unsettled. Daylight had begun to fade as the trees began to thin, casting long impenetrable shadows as the sun nestled itself slowly behind nearby hilltops.

It was then that Allen’s eye activated.

Lavi’s voice was full of urgency and bitter irony when he spoke. “Speak of the devil. How many?”

Allen sighed, moving to activate his Innocence on reflex with a pained expression. “Too many.”

Taking a deep breath, Lavi slid his Innocence out of its holster and activated it, expression settling into one of resigned determination. He looked over at Allen and nodded, receiving one in return. They began to run, making for open space as quickly as they were able. But the Akuma had caught up with them far quicker than they thought they would, and before they were able to exit the expanse of trees, a large fir came crashing down a few metres before them with a Level Four floating above it. It shrieked triumphantly and waved a hand to its left.

“ _They’re here_!”

Allen followed the Akuma’s gaze and saw the souls of others fast approaching; Level Fours, Threes, Twos and a few Ones; far too many for comfort. Instinctively, he raised his left arm to activate it and was met with dull sensation and a silent response. Gritting his teeth, he stood with his back to Lavi’s, fists raised, prepared to fight as hard as he was able without the aid of his Innocence. The Level Four hovering before them laughed.

“Fighting without your weapon again? You really are stupid, 14th.”

Allen bristled, voice brimming with anger. “I am _not_ the 14th.”

The Akuma laughed again. “But you soon will be. That is, if you manage to escape here alive.” The Level Four gave a warning shot a few metres to Allen’s right, hands raised and eyes glinting with malice. “We’re not letting you get out of this one.”

They were far from hollow words. As the rest of the Akuma descended upon them, every living second became blood and pain and toil. Allen’s knuckles were soon torn and bleeding from the force of his punches, and his body ached from the effort of fighting. Lavi, despite the aid of his weapon, was also struggling. His seals picked off the easy targets, and deterred those who were more difficult to defeat, but soon exhaustion and several minor injuries were slowing him down - the worst being a cut just above his left eye, leaving him partially blinded. The longer he fought, the more the swing of his hammer became less and less potent. Looking over his shoulder to see how Allen was faring, and feeling his stomach twist in worry as he noticed Allen’s numerous wounds, Lavi began to follow his escape plan; fire seals to obscure them with smoke and flame, and a speedy exit using an air seal to safety.

But in all the fights prior to this one they had escaped without serious injury, and they were rarely ever followed. The element of surprise and Lavi’s speed had always worked in their favour, and the only Akuma that could rival that speed were the Level Fours, which they had barely encountered during their battles. But, it seemed, the Noah were tired of waiting for Neah’s head, and they wanted him brought bloodied and battered to the Earl for trial and tribulation.

Their upper-hand had rapidly disappeared and Lavi cursed his lack of forethought; they had been lulled into a false sense of security _deliberately_ , and that thought left a bitter taste on his tongue. He immediately cast several fire seals around them, flames obscuring them if only briefly from their assailants, and grabbed hold of Allen’s arm tightly before extending his hammer up and away from the carnage. The world blurred into a mess of green and red before an endless blue arced above them. Lavi looked over his shoulder and swore loudly as several Akuma began to follow them in deadly pursuit. He looked down and felt his heart sink at how battered and exhausted Allen looked.

“Hey, hey, come on. We’re not out of the woods just yet, you’ve gotta stay with me, ‘sprout.”

“It’s… Allen.”

Allen’s voice was hoarse and heavy, but a small flame of defiance was still there, and Lavi felt relief squash his fear, if only momentarily. But they weren’t going to be let off so easily, and as they made it to another expanse of forest they saw a line of black shapes on the horizon, and their hope sank as swiftly as it had arisen. ‘Out of the frying pan and into the fire’ rang clear in Lavi’s mind as it had the first day he had started travelling with Allen and Neah, and as he brought them to a halt and scanned the ground below for an open space, a sudden cry from Allen and a burst of light was all the warning he had before being sent spiralling down to the forest below.

After crashing through each and every branch, Lavi hit ground so hard he was winded by it. Wheezing, his entire body aching, vision blurred, ears full of white noise, Lavi tried to stand and found himself unable to move. All of his thoughts screamed at him to move, to find Allen, to keep fighting, but his senses had dulled and reality felt hazy around the edges as he fought to come to.

Lavi’s gaze trailed slowly from the muddied ground at his fingertips, to his Innocence lying just out of reach, to the hazy outline of treetops and broken branches over his head, to a Level Four floating but a metre above the ground with its hands wrapped firmly around Allen’s neck. Horror and panic washed through him, but his body failed to respond and all he could do was _watch_. Lavi groaned, every part of him aching and in great pain, his gaze fixed on the blurry image of Allen and the Akuma until the fog began to lift. The sound of choking and laughter tuned out the white noise until in a sudden rush reality crashed down upon him.

Lavi’s vision cleared, and the sight of Allen, choking and struggling to breathe, the enemy before him grinning malevolently, made his chest constrict and his heart twist in pain. If he didn’t do something soon, Allen was either going to die or be taken to certain torture and death - bones snapping, blood pooling below him, Sheryl Kamelot’s wrath - and he had to do something, he couldn’t just lie there and watch. But that was what he had spent his entire life doing, watching as other people died, and yet here he was, another soldier fighting another pointless war. Lavi’s limbs were numb and his fingers shook from the effort of extending forward and upward, outstretched to the person he was losing - just another corpse imprinted in ink on paper - and his body was burning and all he could think of was _I don’t want him to die_. He couldn’t breathe and his body felt light and horror washed through him so vividly he felt sick - _I don’t want him to die_ \- and he had to do something but all he could do was stare and memorise the exact way Allen’s arms slumped at his sides - _I don’t want him to die I don’t want him to die I don’t_ …

And, in that brief moment, Lavi felt a sudden clarity, as if the entire world had stopped and time had frozen still. As despair flooded through him, Lavi watched as Crown Clown activated in a flash of heavenly white light.

Allen fell to the ground with a heavy sound. The Level Four floating before him gave a shriek of pain at the white light extended out from the body at its feet and through its heart. Allen rose and silver eyes _burned_ with resolution and power. The Level Four quaked at the sight of this shining Pierrot, arms extended to welcome it to salvation. A cross burned brightly before it, and the last thing it remembered seeing was the kind smile of a boy, battered and bruised, and its soul fading away into blissful nothingness.

Standing in silence, arms raised to guide the fading soul up towards the heavens, Allen seemed so angelic in that moment that the image of him standing there, aglow with heavenly purpose against the darkness surrounding him, burned itself deeply into Lavi’s heart.

His body and mind felt so light he could hardly feel the ground beneath him, or the hands that had pushed themselves under his back to tilt him towards a face, stricken with worry and haloed by light.

“- av - La - Lav - Lavi - Lavi, _Lavi wake up_.”

The world came into focus once more. Burning pain washed through Lavi until he cried out with a grimace, Allen’s concerned expression coming clearly into view.

“Lavi, we need to get out of here. I need you to stand up, come on.”

Allen pulled him to his feet and placed Iron Hammer in his hands. Lavi groaned as his body protested at the sudden movement, stumbling and shaky on his feet. The only thing keeping him upright was Allen’s steady hand on his shoulder, as well as the pain burning through his body and the weapon burning with purpose between his fingertips. As more Akuma landed - two Level Fours, five Level Threes, a single level Two - Lavi re-activated his Innocence and tried to muster whatever strength he had left to fight.

Allen outstretched his left hand, pulling up and around from his wrist until it transformed into a broadsword, which he swung and held before him with a flourish. He turned to look over his shoulder at Lavi and smiled, radiant and aglow with determination, before turning back and dashing forward to fight for the first time in _months_.

Finally, the meaning to his existence had returned.

The Level Twos and Threes were no match for Allen’s recovered strength, but the Level Fours put up a hefty fight. Allen may have regained the use of his Innocence, but he was riddled with wounds and exhausted beyond measure, and Lavi was still shaky on his feet and teetering on the edge of consciousness. It took far longer than it should have done to dispatch their remaining enemies. Eventually a mighty earthen fist from Iron Hammer’s Earth seal, and numerous Cross Graves from Crown Clown, spelled the end for the remaining enemy, and the final Level Four faded out of existence.

Not wasting any time, Lavi extended his hammer’s staff until they were high in the sky and dashing rapidly away from the battleground to safety. Nothing followed them in their wake, and they put as much distance as possible between them and any remaining Akuma before imminent collapse - especially on Lavi’s part - forced them to come to a halt a few dozen miles away.

Lavi hit the ground with a loud _thud_ , lying face down and battered in wet, moonlit grass. Allen joined him, staggering off of Iron Hammer before collapsing at Lavi's side, gaze fixed on the stars and the moon shining brightly above them. Exhaustion and tiredness overcame them as the adrenaline from earlier faded into nothingness. The quiet _swish_ of wind through tall grass, and faraway waves at a nearby lake rising and falling, were the only things to interrupt the silence surrounding them. Eventually, Allen began to laugh, voice full of weary happiness.

“Talk about timing. I was wondering if this stupid thing was ever going to activate again.”

Lavi laughed quietly. “We’re lucky it did. We would’ve been goners otherwise.”

“You can say that again…”

Silence befell them for a moment before Lavi spoke with a strange edge to his voice. “I wonder why…?”

“Hm?”

Allen turned to look at him in confusion and noticed that Lavi was now lying on his side, gazing at Allen’s left arm with a frown. Allen sat up and winced, rubbing gently at the numerous bruises appearing on his neck before shrugging.

“It’s always been like this, saving me when I need it most. It’s just good timing.”

Lavi sighed and rolled over to look at the starlit sky, voice quiet and thoughtful. “I suppose…”

They remained like this for a long time, finding themselves revelling in the tiny feelings that proved they were still alive; the cool breeze brushing against their skin, the wet grass poking between their fingertips, the sound of water, the burning ache of their many wounds.

After a while, Lavi sat up and winced, raising a hand to the side of his head and poking a large lump there gingerly. “We should find some shelter and bandage ourselves up, it’d be a shame to be dyin’ of infection after all that, wouldn’t it?”

Allen laughed and stood, extending a hand and helping Lavi up with a smile. “It would. I can imagine it would make for funny reading in a history book, though.”

Lavi snorted. “You have no idea how many times I’ve laughed over the stupid ways people have died. Did you know a guy called Hans Steininger broke his neck by trippin’ over his own beard?”

Allen pulled a face, laughter rising up within him. “ _What_? That has to be a joke, Lavi, come on.”

They began to walk, limping as they went, arms around each other’s shoulders to steady themselves.

Lavi continued adamantly. “No, no, I’m serious! There was also Adolf Frederick, who died from eatin’ too much. You should pay attention to that ‘sprout, you don’t wanna end up like that guy, right?”

Allen punched him lightly in the shoulder, and Lavi gave a playful wince before continuing.

“And then there was Clement Vallandigham. He accidentally shot himself while defendin’ a man accused of murder by demonstratin’ how the victim could’ve shot themself.”

Allen laughed, shaking his head a little. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know! I laughed so hard at that one I nearly choked on my coffee.”

Allen looked over at him with a fake-serious expression. “You should be careful, Lavi, don’t wanna end up in some book somewhere as the person who laughed himself to death.”

Lavi elbowed him in the side with a wink. “Thomas Urquhart already beat me to it.”

Allen soon couldn’t stop laughing, and Lavi joined him until they were both fighting back tears and their stomachs hurt from more than their injuries.

Allen wheezed. “Oh no, we have to stop. What if we end up like that Urqi - Urqu - what’s-his-face?”

Lavi staggered a little and tried to hold back his laughter. “C-can you imagine the others finding out we died by la-laughing and Yuu getting angry and -”

They both pictured Kanda’s infuriated expression and laughed harder until they had to stop walking and wrap their arms around themselves. Lavi lost his balance and fell with a yelp, and Allen laughed so hard he was wheezing and wiping tears away with a shaking hand.

“Lavi s-stop, I can’t _breathe_. We have to go.”

Lavi gave a defeated noise. “I’m not moving. I’m gonna sleep right here, I’ve decided.”

Allen smiled and shook his head. “Oh Lavi, _come on_.”

Lavi looked up at him with a grin. “Alright, alright, I’ll get up. Gimme a hand, would ya?”

Allen pulled him up and staggered a little, nearly falling backwards into the tall grass behind him. Lavi placed a steady hand on his shoulder and stood beside him, bent over and catching his breath. They stood like this for a while before Lavi stood upright and started to walk, swaying slightly from exhaustion, Allen walking beside him with a weary smile on his face.


End file.
